


Broken

by CC_Sestra



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean and Mental Health Issues, Hurt Dean Winchester, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Physical Abuse, Protective Sam Winchester, References to Drugs, Self-Harm, Worried Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-02-23 00:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 33,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13178556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CC_Sestra/pseuds/CC_Sestra
Summary: This is sad, and heartbreaking, and brutal. It will get better though.John takes sixteen-year-old Dean on a hunt. John doesn't make it and Dean, if he could, would wish he hadn't.Sam never gives up, no matter how long it takes, he will find his family, who vanished when he was just twelve years old.It takes ten years to find out his brother is lost in more ways than one.





	1. These voices won't leave me alone

* * *

You can’t wake up, this is not a dream

You are part of a machine, not a human being

* * *

**They say people experience time as linear even if it’s not. It twists and bends and rolls back up to the beginning. Maybe, sometimes, people get stuck in a more true perception of time.**

_no no no don’t want this can’t be here no no_  
_too much too much no want to stay under no thinking no no_

> broken glass it hurts he’s dead 

_no run run back down_

_flickering lights, a bathroom, blue booths becoming grey, his fucked up face, suddenly whole and older, back to blue, back to no no let the body do what it knows, don’t have to be here_

“He’s **sixteen** , Harold.”  
“He’s a **fucking psycho** , Celeste. A **murderer**.

_hurts nevermind just the body run run let the body be_

“What happened to him, Harold?  
“He got violent, Celeste. Took four guys to hold him down.”  
“He was brought up by a sociopathic terrorist, Harold. He needs **help**.”  
“He lost the right to what he needs when he killed people. Good people. Good cops, Celeste.”

_no no that’s not what happened no too close now to the surface go away run run_

“Do you understand what you have done? Hello? Anybody home?”  
“Look at those eyes, Cal. He’s not going to answer.”  
“He’s fucking **acting** , Penny. Listen, you little fucking psycho, I **will** break you. You’ll never see the light of day again for what you’ve done.”

_no more don’t listen all lies they won’t listen to the truth you know that no no run_

“Something’s off with this, Harold. His papers.”  
“Social security number checks out, Celeste.”  
“This is not right.”  
“You’re fucking right it’s not. He should be tried as an adult and go to Supermax. Or we should live where he’d go straight to death row. Not the nuthouse. I’m telling you, it’s a fucking **act**.”

_flickering flickering that woman turning into another blue eyes go brown same questions different faces_

“Dean? Can you answer me? Can you tell me what they did to you, Dean?”

_doesn’t matter brown-eyes didn’t matter with blue-eyes they can do whatever they want I’m not there I’m not here no run now stop that run run not taking questions_

**Time is funny like that, seems simple as a concept but it's really not. Sometimes five seconds are forever, and five years go by in a blur. Blending together until you don’t know when those five second episodes happened, or in which order, during these five years. Or maybe it’s ten years. You just don’t know.**

_brown-eyes again and wrists hurt why oh cuffs should be used to those no no don’t remember don’t go there go down go down blue-eyes back can’t be that was before no don’t know doesn’t matter go down_

“Give up, Jimmy. Let him go. It’s been a year, and the only thing you’ve accomplished so far is provoking these violent outbursts.”  
“He’s **seventeen** , Tessa. I can’t look my family in the eyes if I don’t keep trying.”  
“He’ll be here when baby Claire goes to college, Jimmy. Just saying. Give him his meds. Let him be. For what he did…”  
“But the file still reads like I don’t know what, Tessa. Not sure what we’re dealing with here.”  
“He’s twenty-one now, Jimmy. You just won’t get there. Go home and read Claire a bedtime story, that one she loves with the cat. Stop obsessing over this.”

_something wrong in there no no don’t think doesn’t matter nothing matters as long as you stay down yes that’s it run run_

“Oh, we’ll make sure he gets what’s coming to him before he leaves, Harold. The little fucker can’t tell nobody, right? He doesn’t talk. That’s why he’s going to the nuthouse. Right, Dean-o?”  
“And if he does, he’s still deranged, Cal. Nothing he says is reliable.”  
“You hear that, little shit? Gonna get it good, psycho. No way out.”

_this already happened once maybe it happens again don’t know don’t care I’m not here not here not here_

> what is that rasp I don’t know think it’s maybe my voice no can’t be run run 

“The new meds are working, Tessa. He speaks. A little bit.”  
“It’s incoherent babble and you know it. Werewolves, vampires, he’s getting to Little Red Riding Hood any minute now. He’ll be forty before he says anything worth listening to.”  
“He’s just twenty, Tessa. I’ll find him in there.”  
“Jimmy, he’s been here seven years now. He’s not going to get any better. Claire starts school tomorrow. You have fifty other patients. Let this one go.”  


_that’s not right numbers don’t match no brown-eyes was here wasn’t she answering questions now not asking them and blue-eyes and the other blue-eyes and all the eyes on me no don’t want that go away go away okay I’ll go away promise go down deeper run_

**When you go into shock, your mind stops working. You need to feel safe to get through and get back to a functioning brain again. In the aftermath, a posttraumatic stress disorder can present itself, triggering violent responses when something reminds you of the trauma. If you are predisposed to any mental diseases, the trauma might trigger these to manifest, as well.**

“Dean, how are you today? I’m doctor James Novak. You can call me Jimmy. Do you know where you are?”  
“I’m sorry, Dean, we have to keep these restraints on you for now. You have been having violent episodes. You remember that? This is a safe room, Dean. If you don’t want to talk today, that’s fine. I just want to help you get better. You’ve been here for a month now, I just need to earn your trust. I’m on your side, Dean, promise.” 

_better is not better better better no no that’s not no to painful to much hurt_

“Dean calm down, try and calm down, listen to my voice!”  
“Okay, guys, we have to sedate him. He’s not coming back right now.”  
“Yes, doctor Novak. Evan, hold him down.”

* * *

Title / quotes: Halsey/Gasoline 

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	2. Spieluhr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title / quote: Rammstein/Spieluhr
> 
> Sam never gave up, and maybe, he was right not to.

* * *

Ein kleiner Mensch stirbt nur zum Schein

Wollte ganz alleine sein

Das kleine Herz stand still für Stunden

So hat man es für tot befunden

* * *

”Bobby, I think I found something!” 

“It’s been ten years, Sam.”

“Look, I know that, but this time, I think it’s really something.”

“Just don’t want you to get your hopes up, kid. Not again. We have to face the facts. Your father and brother are most likely dead.”

“Don’t you say that! Don’t you ever say that to me!”

(no, it’s not true, can’t be true, I would know, I would feel it, he’s out there)

Sam collects himself, controls his breathing. Runs his hand through his hair in a gesture so much Sam, it breaks Bobby’s heart. Bobby doesn’t want to be cruel. He just knows how this ends up. How it always ends up. 

“Just look at this, Bobby. Please.”

Bobby skims through the papers Sam presents to him. 

_The sixteen-year-old will face accusations of the three murders as well as resisting arrest and assaulting the police officers at the scene. Lead officer Cal White says the sixteen-year-old’s father was the mastermind behind the police murders. The father was shot at the scene and died later that night in the hospital. “We know the young man was at least an accomplice in all three murders” White says. “The grieving families will see justice done, it’s all we can do.”_

“Sam, John and Dean wouldn’t kill police officers. Also, this is two states over from the hunt.”

“I hadn’t heard from them in more than a week at that point, Bobby, and Dean never said where they were even then. And keep reading.”

Bobby sighs and does what Sam asks him to. He would do a lot more than that for the boy who is his son in every way except for blood. If needed, Bobby would die for Sam without a second’s thought. His face changes from weary to curious, his eyes widen as he starts to read more carefully. Then he looks up at Sam, eagerly awaiting his response. 

“Sam, I still want you to remember it’s been ten years. But, son… this might be it. This might actually be it. And when did you learn to hack these kinds of databases?” 

“College, Bobby. It’s good for something, every now and then.”

“I didn’t send you there for that” Bobby grumbles, eyes back in the file Sam had presented.

“I went even if I didn’t want to, Bobby. For you. But you can’t make me give up on my family… the rest of my family… ever. And I was right.”

Bobby turns to Sam again, with a pained expression.

“You do realize, Sam, that if this Dean Wesson IS your brother, he’s spent the last ten years in a mental hospital.”

“I don’t care, Bobby. I’m getting him out of there.”

“Not gonna be easy, son. He’s not just in any mental hospital, he’s in Blackwater Ridge Hospital for the criminally insane.” Bobby’s rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Balls.”

“I’m not going back to college after the break, Bobby. We’re getting him out and we’re getting him out NOW. We don’t do anything else. No hunting. No school. No nothing. I want my big brother home.”

“Sam?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about your father. If this is the truth.”

“Thank you, Bobby” the twenty-two-year old, so much more grown up than his years, says with tears in his eyes.

* * *

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	3. Lovin’ on the psychopath sitting next to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title/quote: Twenty One Pilots / Heathens
> 
> Sam gets into Blackwater.

* * *

Just because we check the guns at the door 

Doesn't mean our brains will change from hand grenades

* * *

Sam knows this isn’t the interview Bobby wanted for him. He also knows this is the single most important interview he will have in his entire life, and that Bobby knows that.

“So… Sam Smith. Why do you want to work at Blackwater?”

Sam knows all the answers, and he has the perfect credentials. He has done extensive research for this interview. He has also sabotaged his competition. Of the good ones, he’s the only one who is still good. And he will be able to pull that off, for as long as it’s needed. Sam Winchester is wicked smart and he has never studied this hard for anything in his life. He will get in. And he will get Dean out. He knows Bobby still isn’t convinced, but he can feel it in his gut. Dean is inside those walls. 

(I’m going to kill this guy if he doesn’t call back, fucking kill him)

“Hi, Sam, this is doctor Novak calling. I was wondering if you still wanted the job?”

Sam forces his voice to be calm, not too excited, just enough to make James Novak believe he’s very happy to start working, but not the kind of happy he is. Sam is not only smart, he’s also a terrific liar.

* * *

Sam looks good in scrubs, but then, he looks good in almost everything. That charming smile, those puppy dog eyes, they work very well for him when he needs them to. Just like his body. Sam was a skinny kid, but he grew out of that fast once he realized he was in for the hunt for his life. Forget Yellow-eyes. He was hunting to find his family, the family he **can** remember, and he was going to kill whatever got them. And everything from here to there. Bobby never got him to believe they were dead, never got him to give up on hunting, something he’d never wanted before. Before, when he had a choice. _No bodies, Bobby. I just know they are out there._

It’s his first day, and he’s getting the talk. 

“There are some of the patients you need to watch out for more than the others, but the one you never, ever, turn your back to, is Dean Wesson. I don’t go in there alone.”

“I read his file.”

“It’s disturbing enough to read, but trust me, that green-eyed devil is worse in person. If they hadn’t locked him up when he was sixteen, youngest ever, he would be a serial-killer with an insane death count on him. I know the look. Have been working here long enough.” 

“I find his case interesting. I understand doctor Novak does, too.”

The very well-built nurse sighs. They are all big guys here, have to be.

“Doctor Novak is a freaking genius, but he’s wrong on that one. Everybody is wrong from time to time, Sam. Even geniuses. Nothing interesting with Dean Wesson. Just disturbing.”

“Doctor Novak asked me to try and connect to him, and I will try, Evan.”

(Of course he had, it was a set-up Novak had no chance of getting out of, Sam had made sure of that, grateful that the good doctor for some reason had taken an enormous interest in his brother, who would be his brother, no matter the last name)

“Just don’t believe that MMA crap you got going will help when that psychopath throws a fit.”

“I won’t.”

(He wouldn’t; Sam might be stupid happy but he was not stupid, he got that the Dean he had searched for was not the Dean he was about to meet)

Sam walks out to the common room. It would be almost cozy, if it wasn’t for the bars in all windows, the possibility to chain people to the tables (screwed to the floor, just like the chairs) and the cameras. And the fact that everything, except for the security measures, was worn-down. No, when he thinks about it, the room is not anywhere near cozy. 

Some of the patients are allowed to wear regular clothes. Not the man in the corner, though. He’s in scrubs, just like Sam, only another color. Easier to sedate him when needed that way, Evan said. Sam feels his stomach is tied up in knots, sees his hands tremble a little bit. Hopefully no one notices. Maybe they’ll think his nervous, but he doesn’t want them to think that. He wants them to believe he’s right at home here, not nervous about anything, not even to meet the man that makes even Evan uncomfortable. The man he’s nervous to meet for a whole other reason.

“Hey there, Dean. I’m Sam.”

The man doesn’t respond. Sam knows he eats, goes to the bathroom, like a robot (Dean has been force-fed, but not for many years now). He also knows that’s about all Dean does as long as he’s not triggered into one of those violent episodes that has earned him cuffs everywhere he goes. Loud noises, certain words, sometimes touching. There are a lot of triggers. 

Sam has a very good view of the room, where the TV is on, as always. Nobody wants to get close to the corner where Dean’s eyes are locked on the table. There’s not much else to see, though. Bare white walls. And now, Sam, with his back to the wall, perfect to make sure nobody else listens. Sam leans a tiny bit forward.

“Sam Winchester, Dean. Sammy.”

Dean looks up, meets his eyes, and if Sam wasn’t sure before, he is now. There are no other eyes like that in this world. And he has never, not in all the victims he has talked to, seen pictures of, seen pain like in those green eyes, once so fierce, now almost dead. But Dean still moved. He doesn’t do that, Evan had said. _“If he moves without you making him, you pay attention, Sam. He’s hurt more people than all other patients combined over the years.”_

“I’m here for you, Dean. I’ll get you out.”

A flash of something goes through Dean’s eyes, but then he’s gone. Won’t react to anything. Lost. But he was there, only for a second, and that’s enough for Sam. That’s more than he could dream about just two months ago.

* * *

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	4. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title/quote: Halsey/Control
> 
> Dean's perspective of the reunion.

* * *

I sat alone, in bed till the morning

I’m crying “They’re coming for me” 

And I tried to hold these secrets inside me

My mind’s like a deadly disease

* * *

“Hey there, Dean. I’m Sam.”

_hazel not brown not blue not not eyes piercing him no not hostile no no more dangerous have to run fast fast he got me got me no no_

_NO YOU’RE NOT_

“Sam Winchester, Dean. Sammy.”

_NO PLEASE GOD NO NO NO_

_be all better now kill it kill it go away no more_

“I’m here for you, Dean. I’ll get you out.”

_all tense body tense it will go off no don’t don’t no more needles it’s not real not real no going going gone no fireworks no explosions all gone now_

“We have a new nurse now, Dean. He’s going to talk to you. Chris won’t anymore, but maybe Sam will do better. I like him, Dean, I think you might too.”  
“You did, didn’t you, he says he wants to stay on your case, Dean. He wants to help, Dean, just like me. Want to tell me something today? Like last week?”

_no he’s wearing me out keep prickling my skin keep dragging me up I don’t want to go up I want to stay down please let me stay please jimmy no I don’t know your name don’t know your eyes go away go away_

“Want to tell me what you are so afraid of, Dean? It’s okay to be scared. Maybe you’d sleep better if you told me. I know you don’t want the medicine, Dean. I want to help you, but you have to trust me. It’s been five years, Dean. I can help, but you have to let me.”

_help me no help no no no the lie is the truth and the truth is the lie you won’t help won’t believe blue-eyes I’ll just leave go go gone_

“Hey there, Dean. I’m Sam.”

_no this happened already_

_not real_

_nothing is real remember that all better all better now_

“Freckles, you in there?”

_NO NO NONONO_

> “Dean, I know you can hear me somewhere in there.” _somewhere somewhere_ ”Freckles” “Going to place my hand” “Freckles” “Need to know” “Freckles, freckles” “I’m so sorry”

__  


_NO NO NO PLEASE GOD NO DON’T MAKE ME NO_

“Sam Winchester, Dean. Sammy.”

_no can’t be no not true nothing here is_


	5. Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to know a little bit more about why Dean has fled the world.
> 
> Title/quote: NEEDTOBREATHE (feat.Jensen Ackles :) )/ Brother

* * *

Brother let me be your shelter  
Never leave you all alone  
I can be the one you call  
When you’re low  
Brother let me be your fortress  
When the night winds are driving on  
Be the one to light the way  
Bring you home

* * *

“Sam, I’d like to talk you before you go home for the day.”

“Sure, doctor Novak.” 

”Call me Jimmy, Sam. Everybody does, except for Evan.” 

“Sure, Jimmy” Sam says with a smile, wondering what this is about.

He wonders for three hours, until his shift is over. 

“I’m here now, doctor…ahem, Jimmy.”

“Come in and close the door, Sam.”

Jimmy Novak does not look happy, but Sam senses this has nothing to do with his work performance (which is, by the way, flawless; one would believe those faked credentials were real any day). 

“I understand you have been working hard on Dean, Sam, and I have a good sense of who people are. Kind of have to, in this line of work. I’m going to take a chance with you, because I believe you are already getting somewhere with Dean. I want to show you something, and you can not tell anyone about this. Some people, some very influential people, have told me that Dean would be transferred right away if I did.”

Sam looks Jimmy right in the eye. 

“I can do that, Jimmy. I want to help him, I really do.”

Jimmy nods, with a sad little smile.

“When Dean first was brought in, he was hurt. I have photos and x-rays here. You know how to read x-rays?”

“Well enough” Sam answers and his heart gets cold as he sees Dean, the Dean he remembers, sixteen years old and pretty banged up. He fights for control over his breath.

(this is just a patient, not your brother, focus Sam)

“He healed up fine, though he seemed to need to be pushed to the floor very often… but he was mostly fine, until he was sentenced to come here. Then, there was an accident and Dean got loose. It’s said he got violent, which wasn’t hard to believe, because he had those outbursts you’ve read about in his file ever since he was arrested.”

Jimmy Novak stops there, turning those piercing blue eyes straight at Sam. 

“That accident ended him up at the hospital. They tried to keep me away from there, Sam, but I’m quite insistent when I want to. I took some pictures of my own, and I know someone who knows someone. I got the x-rays too. But, Sam, I was told that if I pressed it, Dean would go to another hospital. And I didn’t have the pull back then, barely do now.” 

Jimmy spread photos and x-rays out for Sam to see.

Sam inhaled sharply, all color gone from his cheeks. 

(don’t throw up, breathe, Sam, you can do it, take control, don’t faint, no you don´t!)

“Yes, Sam, that was my reaction, too. Pretty curious how he ended up like this, and nobody else was hurt. Also pretty curious how there is not one single defense injury. Not one.”

Sam couldn’t answer, just couldn’t. He had seen bad, more bad than most people did their entire life in his twenty-two years on Earth, but this… his Dean, broken bones, face so swollen he was barely recognizable, covered in cuts and bruises.

(don’t look, Sam, that’s enough, eyes anywhere but on Dean)

“I believe, Sam, that the police officers weren’t happy about Dean going here. They wanted him in Supermax. I think they hurt him as bad as they could, not killing him. I think they hurt him in _every_ way, Sam. They said the broken bones was from his arrest, which is ridiculous even if I didn’t have those x-rays too. They said he didn’t need all exams because they were there all the time. The doctor on call at the ER, his daughter was one of the cops that died. They said a lot of things, Sam, and it was like that town was in a mass hysteria. All I could do was make sure someone who wasn’t in their pocket was with him and that he got here.”

(In _every_ way, yes, I know what that means, wish I didn’t, fight, Sam, you can do this, control)

“The system failed this young boy, and I’m failing him. I need someone to work with me on this, fresh eyes. You might not be a psychiatrist, but you have shown remarkable skill, and most importantly, dedication to this patient.”

Sam nods, still not able to speak. 

“Good. This here explains, the way I see it, a lot. Dean was never treated like he should’ve been, Sam, and then this happened. Once I got to him, it was too late. But I just can’t give up.”

Sam swallows. Hard. Twice. Forces himself to push down for now. 

“I will help Dean the best I can, Jimmy, I promise. Thanks for sharing this with me.”

Jimmy smiles. 

“I’m looking forward to having someone truly on my team, Sam.”

“Do you think it would be okay for me to just sit with him for a while before I go? He’s about to go to sleep now, I know, but still…”

“You have a warm heart, Sam Smith. Go sit with him for a while. Let him know there are two people on his side now.”

Sam sits at the bed, ready to give Dean his sleep medication. Evan had rolled his eyes and sighed when he found out Sam was about to stay after his shift, but sure, if the new guy wanted to shack up with the psycho, fine with him. Just wait till Dean showed his true colors, and we’ll see how tough Sam would be then. 

“Dean, I know you can hear me somewhere in there. I’m going to place my hand on your arm, now. You need to know I’m here and I’m so sorry for what happened to you.”

Dean twitches, and his jaw clenches. It’s a big risk touching him like that. 

“Don’t” he says, his voice hoarse from disuse. 

“Dean?” Sam asks, little arrows of happiness and fear shooting through his body. It’s the first time Dean talks to him. And it seems like Dean actually talks TO him, not just utters words at random, like Jimmy says he does sometimes.

“Don’t” Dean says again.

“Freckles? You in there?” Sam whispers, tears filling his throat. His heart is aching with fear of how broken his brother is, but a little hope lives in there, too.

Dean’s head jerks up, the green eyes suddenly awake, his face contorted with pain. He stares in wild panic at Sam. Then, just as suddenly, he falls back on the bed, gone again.

* * *

“He can’t stay here, Bobby. I won’t get him ready to move anywhere close to soon enough. We have to bust him out as is. I am not leaving him here alone anymore. He’s my brother, Bobby.” 

Sam can almost hear Bobby sit down and reach for the whiskey.

“Son, we agreed not to do that.”

“Please, Bobby, help me. I can’t see him like this anymore. I’ll do it anyway, but I want you in on this. Maybe Ellen and Jo too. They just shoot him full of drugs here, and they don’t know… Jimmy thinks Dean talking about werewolves means he’s schizophrenic, Bobby. He’s an amazing doctor, but he can’t help Dean when he doesn’t know the truth.”

Bobby pours the whiskey.

“Balls.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”


	6. The Great Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not really necessary, the title pretty much sums it up :)

Ellen shakes her head. 

“Sam, you’ve lost your mind.”

“Ellen, I’m going to Steve McQueen Dean out of there no matter what. Are you with me?”

“Of course I am. Doesn’t mean I can’t say this is as crazy as the people locked up in there.”

“Then we contribute, mom. We make the plan better. We don’t complain” Jo says.

Ellen laughs, that dry laugh that always makes Sam feel like everything will be okay. Ellen is fierce, a force of nature, almost like Mother Nature herself. 

“That’s my girl, all right. Okay, Jo, how do we make batshit crazy more of slightly delusional?” 

Bobby rolls his eyes, sighs. 

“And we are sure this is the best way to go? If half of what you say is true, Sam, Dean needs a lot more than we can give him.”

“I will give him what he needs” Sam says, with that voice that tells Bobby there’s no use to argue.

* * *

“Good night, Dean” Sam says and helps Dean swallow his meds. Little extra punch tonight, because he really needs Dean to sleep through this. He’s seen with his own eyes now how Dean reacts when his PTSD is triggered (because that is what it really is). If he’d only gotten there in time, but no, Evan has his brother down on the floor and sedated before Sam gets to try. He can’t have something like that happening tonight, not even if he’s close to Dean the whole time. He’s not sure he can get through to his brother in that state of panic. Not even with the work he’s done during the painful time he’s had to wait, preparing to get Dean out. 

Dean isn’t that heavy to carry, he’s never been a big eater. Nobody here cares very much about that. Minimal rations are what is demanded of him to eat. No apparent undernourishment, no problem. He’s probably a few pounds underweight, though. The only good thing about that is that Sam, who’s definitely not underweight and all muscles, heaves his brother over his shoulder easily. 

Sam pants and hopes that the other patients will be fine for the night. Putting all the nurses in an artificial sleep could have consequences, but he can’t think about that now. Jo and Ellen have the cameras and alarms under control, Bobby has the car ready to go as soon as the five of them (one as unconscious as Evan and the others are) make it out. Which they do. Not many hospitals, not even the ones for the criminally insane, are built to stop the people working there from stealing the patients. 

They get back to the cabin when the sun starts to consider coming back, the cabin even Sam didn’t know Bobby had. Bobby is awesome that way, he always has one more card up his sleeve. He always comes through. Sam pats Bobby’s shoulder, tells him a wordless thankyou that he knows Bobby gets. Bobby hands Sam a beer. 

“How long before he wakes up?”

“Probably three hours, at least. I gave him another shot in the car. Give us time to set up.”

Sam sighs and eyes the bag against the wall, next to the other ones carrying their clothes and stuff. The one filled up with drugs of every kind and then some. Dean’s medicines list is horrible. All those drugs alone, over all that time, could make anyone insane. 

“Tell me he’ll be fine, Bobby.”

“He’s gonna be just fine, Sam. Just need a good night’s sleep, then he’ll bounce back.”

“Fucking liar.”

Bobby smiles and ruffles Sam’s hair. 

“Idjit.”

His brother, sleeping, looks so peaceful, younger than his twenty-six years. He’s pale after all those years with little to no sun. The freckles that earned him the nickname Sam used to tease him with all those years ago, are almost nonvisible. But Dean still remembers being called that, his reaction to it told Sam that without a doubt. He just wishes it wasn’t so painful for Dean to remember. 

“Sam, you should try and get some rest” Ellen says, or more, demands.

“I can’t, Ellen. I have to be there when he wakes up.”

“And the same second he as much as twitches, I’ll wake you up. You can lie down here, right next to him, Sam, but you need to sleep a few hours if you can. Won’t be much rest for you in the coming weeks” Ellen answers, trying not to even think about that it could be years, not weeks. Or for the rest of Sam’s life. They simply don’t know. 

“Me and Bobby will fix this place up. Mom watches over you two. You rest, Sam. We need you later, you are the only one who knows what to do with Dean” Jo says, squeezes Sam’s shoulder. She’s cute, Jo, but that blonde hair and petite body has never hidden the fact that she’s tough as nails. How could she not be, with Ellen as her mom?

“Okay, I’ll try” Sam says, lies down next to Dean. He tenderly massages Dean’s scalp, like Dean loved when they were kids (secretly, but he would almost purr like a cat and fall asleep in front of the TV whenever Sam did it, happy because Dean and Dad were finally back from a hunt). Sam’s very tired, mainly because the tension from not knowing if the plan would work out has left his body. He knows they are in no way out of the woods, but his brother is here – far from caretakers who are not very interested in taking care of him. _Sorry, Jimmy_ , Sam thinks, _but I hope you understand why I did it_.

* * *

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	7. I can't run no more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam starts up the treatment he wants Dean to have, now that Blackwater is history. 
> 
> Title/quote: Leonard Cohen/Anthem

* * *

The birds they sang

At the break of day

Start again

I heard them say

Don't dwell on what

Has passed away

Or what is yet to be

* * *

Ellen doesn’t get to wake him up, because the same moment as she’s about to do that, Sam wakes from his light slumber when Dean moves his arm. It’s sad to see, the arm so clearly used to being restrained that it restrains itself from a bigger movement. Sam starts to gently massage him again, running fingers through that awful hospital haircut. Over the last two weeks, he’s been able to do this without Dean twitching or getting upset. Of course, Sam has only tried this when Dean is at least slightly drugged, because he always is. 

“Good morning, Dean. You can wake up now, if you want to.” 

Dean jerks awake, his eyes fly open in panic. He doesn’t know where he is, and he hasn’t been anywhere but in a small, confined, familiar space for so many years, it might as well be forever. 

Bobby has, cautiously, suggested they maybe should keep Dean restrained for the first few nights, at least. “It’s what he’s used to, Sam.” Sam wouldn’t have it. With him, there would be nothing like that unless it was absolutely necessary. 

“Don’t worry, Dean, I’m here. You’re fine.” Sam keeps his hand in Dean’s hair, whispers to him. He hopes this routine he’s been trying to get Dean used to will keep his brother calm. 

Dean trembles. He closes his eyes.

* * *

_what is this new this hasn’t happened before has it that’s sa m m no don’t think it don’t say it he’s not real remember new tricks new lies_

_my hair it feels like don’t stop I want something how did that happen no never want anything it never works out stop_

* * *

“Sam?”

Dean’s voice is so much grittier than Sam remembers. The sixteen-year-old didn’t sound like this. But still, the voice feels like home, warms his heart, makes him smile, all teary (and he’s been so stoic the last years, barely showing feelings at all, always kind of cold). 

“Yes, big brother, I’m right here. I found you, Dean. Remember?”

Dean doesn’t answer, but he raises a hand, briefly stops where he would have had to, had he been restrained like at Blackwater. Raises it and touches his face.

“Yeah, freckles, we’ll get you all tanned up again” Sam whispers, tears coming down his cheeks now. He doesn’t care if Ellen or Jo or Bobby sees. His tears drip down, fall on Dean. Dean jerks, not prepared for the touch. Sam always tells him when he’s about to touch him. Then, incredibly, he meets Sam’s eyes, a little light in there, flickering. For the first time, Sam knows, a hundred percent, Dean actually sees him.

* * *

_he’s here he’s here he’s here_

* * *

“Hey there, big brother. I got you, freckles, they can’t touch you now” Sam smiles, voice breaking with the tears. 

Dean says nothing, he just keeps looking Sam in the eyes, like he’s never seen his brother before. It’s hard for him to understand, of course, because he remembers a scrawny twelve-year-old. But Sam has told him, over and over again, and maybe he finally understands, believes.

Then his eyes get all muddled again and he’s gone, just like that. Sam doesn’t care. Dean can do it. He just needs time, needs help. 

The other three watches and dare say nothing. They are barely breathing. The moment when they see the brothers connect, that’s something they will remember forever. It’s like the air gets electrified. Other people might have missed it. Hunters don’t miss something like that.

The cabin is silent for a long time. Then Sam takes a deep breath. 

“Dean, time for breakfast. I’ll help you up, okay? We need to move to the table.”

Gently, he prods Dean to move. Dean never reacted badly to Sam at Blackwater, because Sam tells him what will happen, gives him a warning before he touches him. Evan says it helps, but he scoffs at the thought Dean is listening for real. “It’s a reflex, Sam. His brain isn’t capable of normal conversations.” Sam gets Dean to sit down at the old table. 

“I know you’re used to oatmeal, Dean, but I thought we’d try something else today. Bobby will make an omelet, right, Bobby?”

“You got it, Sam. Give me a few minutes” Bobby says, happy to be of use. It’s easier to relax that way, not just standing around.

“Thanks, Bobby. Then I think you should all get some sleep. I got Dean now.”

“You sure, hon?” Ellen asks.

“Yes, Ellen.” 

“I’ll go sleep now” Jo says. “Not that hungry and I’m totally beat.”

Ellen and Bobby exchanges looks. They will try and sleep in shifts, be there for Sam the first few days at least. They don’t know everything, but they know enough. Sam might be fine on his own, but when has that ever stopped them from trying and help him? Never, that’s when.

Dean has been eating oatmeal for breakfast for several years now. Cheap, thin oatmeal. Omelet is new. First, Sam is a little bit worried that there might be too many new things at once, but Dean eats without problems, the entire omelet. Sam hasn’t seen him eat that much before. Maybe because he’s not forced to hurry, get it done, maybe because he finally gets something that tastes good (because nobody makes better omelets than Bobby). 

“Good, Dean. You’re doing so good. I’m sorry, freckles, but you have to take these. Can’t go cold turkey, but I promise, we’ll get rid of them, okay?” 

Dean swallows the pills without protests, and Sam doesn’t know if he understands what Sam just said. The concept of tapering off drugs is a lot more abstract than the concept of touching, it demands Dean to think a lot more. Something his brother really doesn’t want to, something he’s scared of. That much, Sam knows, after the painful weeks he had to wait to get Dean out of that place. 

After breakfast at Blackwater, they usually just let Dean sit like he’s sitting now, shoulders slumped, eyes down in the table, until there’s therapy with Jimmy or, very rarely, there’s some activity he’s deemed fit to attend to. Evan doesn’t like the fuss, it’s better to just let the would-be-serial-killer be. Not like he’ll ever get better, and if he did, his “better” is not what the world needs, anyway.

“Dean, I want you to go outside. Get some air. If you don’t want to, that’s okay.”

There’s no sign Dean hears what he says, but Sam hopes he does. He gives Dean time to process, and then he repeats what he just said, waits again. 

“I’ll help you up now, Dean. Just grab your elbow there, let’s walk, okay?”

They walk to the door, and Sam opens it. They stand there for about ten minutes. Dean squints at the sunlight, trembles. There are no fences, nothing to confine him. Just grass, and sun, and trees.

* * *

_this is all new this didn’t happen before there are new colors here_

_want to stay no hope hope hurts please don’t be lies again always lies_

* * *

“Dean? I’ll hold you, okay, around the waist. We’ll walk outside, together. Just a little while. You see that little bench by the trees? We’ll go there. I want your freckles back, freckles.”

They do just that, but very slowly. Sam’s arm around Dean’s waist makes sure he feels it when Dean stiffens up, needs to stop. Stay. Wait. Process. Calm down. Finally, they sit down. 

“Sammy?”

Sam wonders when the sound of his brother’s voice will stop making him cry. 

“Yes, Dean?”

“Can I stay?”

“Always, Dean. You can always stay here, with me.”

Dean doesn’t answer but tears come trickling down his cheeks. Sam dares to put his fingers in Dean’s hair again, gently, so gently, prodding Dean to rest his head on Sam’s broad shoulder. He wishes Jimmy could see this.

* * *

_stupid stupid it will hurt so bad you know it will run run run_

_too late too late let it hurt later now is now is now want this_

* * *

They sit there for hours, until Sam decides they need to eat lunch. Dean hasn’t been unrestrained for this long in many years. He shows no sign to realize that. It’s heartbreaking watching him walk like he’s in chains, a walk he’s gotten used to. But he walks, and he sits, and he eats, almost relaxed instead of listless.

“Tastes good, right? Bobby makes a mean chili, nothing like that hospital food” Sam smiles. 

Bobby sits right across from them. When he accidentally hits the plate with the spoon, making a sharp sound, Dean jerks. His body tenses and Sam knows what comes next. Bobby doesn’t know but he can guess. 

Sam gestures to Bobby to be still while he murmurs calming words to Dean, making him settle down and finish his meal. 

“This will be a bit tricky to live with, Sam” Bobby says, troubled. 

“He’ll get better, Bobby. He is, already. He talked to me earlier, showed me he wants this. Just give him time” Sam answers, watching his brother eat. “Would you hand me the pills, Bobby? We have to get him clean slowly, or he’ll get sick. He’s been on that shit for too many years.”

“How much do you know about all those drugs anyway, Sam?” Bobby asks, a bit concerned.

“Did a lot of research, Bobby. I know enough. And I know some of them might actually make him sicker. If you try and medicate someone to believe the truth is a lie, it doesn’t end up well, but Jimmy couldn’t know that’s what he did.” 

Bobby leaves it at that. _What that kid can’t learn, and fast_ , he thinks. Then Ellen pats him on the shoulder, and he goes to get some sleep, with a last look back at the brothers, finally reunited. No matter how broken Dean is, it makes Bobby smile. His heart is heavy with knowing his Sam might be stuck as a caretaker for the rest of his life, but he knows the alternative would be worse for Sam. Not knowing, not able to let it go. Sam has not processed the fact that his (other) father is not coming back, but he will. If he ever gets to take his mind of Dean for more than a few minutes.

* * *

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	8. Angel with a shotgun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Castiel, angel, rebel, and unknown ally to the Winchesters.
> 
> Title/quote: The cab/Angel with a shotgun

* * *

I'm an angel with a shotgun

Fighting til' the wars won

I don't care if heaven won't take me back

* * *

Jimmy Novak always was a very devout man. That’s why it doesn’t take long for him to believe Castiel is speaking to him, even if he at first writes it off as stress. He’s been very upset since that Sam Smith busted Dean Wesson out of his hospital. He still can’t believe Sam played him for a fool. Jimmy, given his profession, also contemplates the possibility that he’s simply fallen sick, but he decides he’s not. If God exists, and angels exist, why wouldn’t they speak to people? The miracles Castiel can perform helps, too. If he’s sick, he’s very sick, totally delusional. 

When Castiel first offers to help with Dean, tells Jimmy he’s needed for something bigger than Castiel, bigger than angels, it throws Jimmy into another period of doubt. This really speaks for the stress-theory. Making up some angel that will take care of his kidnapped patient. But in the end, he surrenders. 

“Will you take care of my family, Castiel?”

“Of course, we will, Jimmy” the angel answers, and this is the first time he ever told a lie in his very, very long life.

“Then, yes.”

The entire neighborhood lights up for a few seconds. Castiel once again sees the world through the eyes of a human, and he’s very sad he had to lie to Jimmy. The angels won’t care any extra about Jimmy’s family, because he’s not under orders. It’s the exact opposite, to be honest. Still, the angels and Heaven will take care of Jimmy’s family, as they do every other devout family. He didn’t outright lie if you think about it like that, but Castiel isn’t like other angels. He does care about humans, even if he has now possessed one. He wants them to know exactly what he’s saying.

It’s not a coincidence he chooses to possess the one who knows about Dean Winchester, which Castiel hopes the other angels won’t realize for a long time. They don’t understand humans, and that’s why they have fallen for the strategies Castiel has used to keep them off track so far. He and Anna can’t keep it that way forever, though. The angels will pay attention to the fact that Sam Winchester has fallen off the map sooner or later.


	9. Where the cold wind blows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is finding ways to help Dean out from where he's trapped.
> 
> Title/quote: In the pines (Old folk song) (and yeah, Nirvana is what I hear when I see the lyrics)

* * *

My girl, my girl, where will you go

I'm going where the cold wind blows

In the pines, in the pines

Where the sun don't ever shine

I would shiver the whole night through

* * *

It’s been a week. Sam keeps Dean mostly to himself, getting his big brother used to new environments while the doses on antipsychotics and sedatives (and everything else) are lowered. Not much, because even the small changes Sam has made so far has caused physical reactions. Dean has been on meds for so long his body is violently protesting when they are taken away. Bobby asks, once more, if Sam is really qualified to make those decisions.

“You want to do it?”

“No, you know I can’t, Sam.”

“You want to bring him to a hospital?”

Bobby sighs. 

“I guess not.”

“Look, I know you’re worried, Bobby, but this is the only choice we have. I know what I’m doing.”

Then, one morning, when Bobby serves up eggs and bacon (something that Sam says is Dean’s new favorite) Sam asks him to sit down. They’ve been eating together, all of them, but in silence and carefully, not to set Dean off. At the hospital, Dean was always by himself, always staring into that wall. For years and years. 

“Dean? Can you look at me, freckles?”

There’s silence, no movement, but just as Bobby’s giving up, Dean does what Sam is asking. Ellen, sitting nearby, is holding her breath.

“Remember I told you Bobby is here?”

Sam has told him lots of times. It takes Dean a while to process new information, but Sam has noticed it helps giving his brother something else new at the same time. Pinching one of his fingers gently. Showing him something he hasn’t seen in years (which is a lot of things, so not as hard as it might sound).

* * *

_new things again too much will bring pain will bring pain no don’t run run run_

_sammy wants this do it do it_

* * *

“Can you look at him? Bobby, would you say hi to Dean” Sam says.

Bobby takes a deep breath.

“Hey there, Dean. We missed you.”

Dean twitches at the sound of his voice. Sam waits patiently, fingers in Dean’s hair. Two minutes goes by. Nobody in the hospital had the patience for this, except for Jimmy – and he had way too many other patients to do a good job with anyone, really, even if he did anyway, miraculously. Bobby waits, too. Mainly because Sam wants him to. He would wait the entire day if Sam wanted it.

Dean, very slowly, turns from Sam to Bobby. 

“Bobby?”

“Yes, freckles, Bobby” Sam says, voice unstable. 

“Hey, Dean. I’m very happy you are here now” Bobby says, voice breaking up a little, because he sees that Dean is actually looking at him. 

Then, it looks like Dean sees something else, something so horrible he can’t take it. He screams in panic, his entire body convulsing, violently striking out at anything or anyone close. How Sam gets him down on the floor is a mystery to Bobby, but Sam has learned a trick or two at the hospital. And he doesn’t need that “MMA crap”, he needs to walk the line between gentle and protecting pressure. It takes a long time for Dean to calm down, Sam murmuring to him.

“Should I get him something, Sam?” Bobby asks, very pale. 

“No, Bobby. If he’s ever coming back to us, he has to go through this. I know how it looks, but there is no other way than through. I will get him there.” 

“Even if it kills him?” Ellen asks, bluntly but with loving concern.

“It won’t. He might wish it would, but it won’t” Sam says. “He needs to be on suicide watch, though. I’m not sure what it is that has happened to him, but I know how hard he’s been working to stay away from it.” 

“That… thing you told us they did to him” Ellen says, not wanting to spell it out. Sam hadn’t when he told them about it with a face Ellen never wants to see again. 

“Probably made it worse, Ellen, but it was not the trigger” Sam answers. “Something happened to him and Dad, something so terrifying and horrible that Dean decided to hide the only place he could get to. His own mind. He got lost in there, Ellen, but he wanted to. The prize of being sane was too high. He tried to hang himself in jail, first thing he did. When they saved him from that, that was when he got really lost. Fled as best he could, and damn if he’s not very good at that as well. Dean is good at a lot of things.” 

Bobby and Ellen stares at each other, and Bobby takes Ellen’s hand. Sam would smile at that if he wasn’t so preoccupied that he doesn’t even notice. He’s waited for that to happen for a long time, what the simple hand-in-hand might mean. Bobby wonders how this young man he loves so much got to be so freaking strong. No kid (and Bobby still sees Sam as a kid) should ever have to even come close to something like this.

* * *

_hurts so bad don’t listen no run not worth it_

_sammy says stay sammy sammy i want to but it hurts so bad can’t go back there_

* * *

Sam has finally gotten Dean to breath normally. He will have to stay on the floor for a while, getting some distance between himself and the panic attack. Sam doesn’t want to move him now. The floor is somewhere in the vicinity of clean and warm enough. They can stay there. They do, for an hour, when Sam decides to get Dean back to bed, rest up.

“Is that going to happen a lot?” Bobby asks when Dean closes his eyes and Sam finally can concentrate on something else. 

“Probably. But it will get better. You saw it, he tries so hard, Bobby. After all this time, that takes such tremendous strength, but he tries, fights for it. I will fight with him.” 

Bobby doesn’t ask for how long, because he knows the answer. The college just lost a student and the community lost a hunter for a good long while, one that will last for as long as needed. That’s a great loss for them, but Bobby will support Sam whatever he does. For however long it takes.

Next day, Sam tries the same thing. Bobby is cautious now, expects the same results. It starts out the same. Dean listens to Sammy, slowly accepts the fact that someone else he knows is there. Then he jerks, shudders, but he stays upright, squeezes Sam’s wrist until the bones almost breaks. He hyperventilates, but he doesn’t get violent. This is new. 

“My god, Dean, you are so strong, doing so good, so fucking amazing” Sam whispers, not showing any sign of pain even though his wrist will be black and blue tomorrow.

“Sammy, it hurts” Dean says, that deep raspy voice, so pained. 

“I know, freckles. You just hang in there, I promise I’ll get you through this.” 

Once again, Bobby wonders how Sam can be this strong. He himself, who never knew Dean as well as Sam did, even if he loved the boy he got to take care of every now and then, he cries. A grown-up, no, old man, hardened by a hard life, cries. Ellen stands behind him, Jo holding her in a tight embrace, comforting them both. 

“Can’t we give him something, Sam” Jo says, thin voice, “he hurts so bad, I can’t take it.”

“Jo, if it’s too much, you don’t have to be here. But if he doesn’t feel the pain, he’ll never come back to us. I can’t ease him through this more than I do.”

Jo takes a deep breath.

“Then, I will take it, Sam. If he can, I most fucking certainly can.” 

“Me, too” Ellen says.


	10. You do not get to go there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, bad things are needed for good things to happen.

Ellen calls.

“Heading back to you tonight, Sam. I have a ton of groceries, but anything in particular before I leave?”

Ellen has been gone a week now, making sure the Roadhouse still stands. Ash is not who you want running a place, genius or not.

“You’ve got the pie?”

“Yes, Sam. I’ve got the pie.” 

Sam had forgotten how much Dean liked pie, and it seems he still does. Bobby baked a pie (he could work at a restaurant, that grumpy old man) and Dean ate three pieces. Sam was so happy about that, he might have mentioned that pie one time too many. Or two. 

Ellen will leave again in a week, switch places with Jo who stayed behind. Doesn’t matter if Sam says they don’t have to, because they want to. However painful it is watching Dean visiting that place he has to go to if he wants to get to Sam, the small, small steps forward (in reality enormous considering Dean has been the same for so many years) are worth it. Even if they weren’t, Ellen and Jo would still be there. For Sam. 

“You hear that, freckles? Pie is on its way” Sam says joyfully. 

“Awesome” Dean says, and Sam squeezes his hand. Dean talks sometimes, now. Usually not more than one word, but he’s capable of breaking through just a little, for casual conversations, without a panic attack. And “awesome” is the best word so far, so much Dean like he used to be. It would be good with a smile to go with that word, but Sam takes what he gets. He can wait for it. Dean is on lower doses of antipsychotics now and that seems to help. He’s not as confused, mostly he’s gone or he’s there. Not half-way like before, at the hospital. 

Today, Sam has seen Dean walk around on his own outside. Slow, like he’s re-learning to walk (which he is, on his own and without chains). Dean is just fine without him an armlength away now, for shorter periods of time. When he hears Ellen’s car park outside, he even dares to go greet her, leaving Dean in the cabin with Bobby. _If only Jimmy could see this, he genuinely cared for Dean, I know that_ , Sam thinks.

Sam’s thoughts are very abruptly interrupted when he walks to the car, because Ellen lies unconscious next to it. Sam’s gun is in his hand before he even thinks about what to do. Reflexes like that is a requirement for surviving as a hunter, which Sam has done for four years now (Bobby wouldn’t let him take the lead on any hunts before he turned eighteen). A girl walks into his view. 

“Hey there, Sam” she says as she casually waves her hand, sending Sam’s gun flying. 

Sam is pulling the holy water he happens to have in his jacket (lucky enough) out, but it doesn’t help. It goes flying the same way, and as he starts to chant he hears Bobby run up to them. 

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas,” is what he has time for. 

“Oh-oh Sam, fool me once” the demon says, and he’s flung against the house, silenced with that demony grip they love so much, the black-eyed fuckers. 

“Omnis incursio infernaliis adversarii, omnis congregatio,” Bobby says loudly before he’s up next to Sam. 

“Sam Winchester and Bobby Singer, how nice to meet you again. And I understand you have your brother in there, the lunatic? Ellen makes such nice small talk on the phone” the demon snickers. “I’ll be sure to see what he looks like these days. When I’m all done with you.”

Sam’s heart is beating so fast he thinks it might explode. He’s not been scared like this since his first hunt alone. Not for himself, no, but for Dean. He’s been through enough.

The demon laughs, waves her fingers, make the men writhe in pain. 

“You don’t recognize me, but I sure do recognize you. Only you look a lot better like this.”

“Orion?” Bobby asks angrily.

“Oh yeah. Told you I’d be back.” 

That’s when the demon hisses and smoke emanate from its skin, like it burns. Which it does, because Dean Winchester has thrown holy water at it, the holy water Sam tried to use. His voice is trembling, but it’s not hesitating. 

“Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, ergo draco maledicte” he chants and with the demon off her feet, Sam can break loose and help him. 

“Ut ecclesiam tuam secura, tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audinos” he keeps going. 

Bobby is with him when they start over. Dean’s knees give in and he sits on the ground, the flask once again lost from a Winchester’s hand. He shakes uncontrollably, and reaches for the gun, intends to use it just as black smokes leaves the girl and goes right back to hell, again. 

“Noo!” Bobby yells and Sam turns around, sees his brother with the gun, clearly wanting the pain to go away forever. 

“No, Dean, you do not get to go there. Dean listen to me!”

Bobby yelling didn’t cause any reaction, but Dean twitches at the sound of Sam’s voice. 

“Please, Deedee!” Sam had forgotten about that, what he’d said when he’d tried to learn his brother’s name as a toddler. John had laughed, and started to call Dean that too, like Dee Dee Ramone, he said. When Dean grew older, he preferred not to be called pet names, but both Sam and John used it on occasion. The kind of occasion when Dean didn’t argue about it, because he needed the comfort. When he needed to feel like they were something that reminded of a normal family. 

Dean stares at him, the hand with the gun trembling real bad, but he still holds it. 

“Don’t do this to me, Dean. Please, don’t leave me again” Sam cries, so scared he won’t be able to get through to his brother. A gun is a lot faster than a noose. “Please, Deedee, please just listen to me.”

Dean lowers the gun, drops it. Sam lounges forward, secures the gun, throws it away and hugs Dean with all he’s got. “Thankyou, freckles, I got you now. You’re so goddamn fucking strong, Deedee, so goddamn brave” he half whispers. 

Bobby sees they’re okay and checks on Ellen, who will apologize for being so wrapped up in shit she didn’t pay attention, several times, as soon as she wakes up. 

Sam stays on the ground with Dean for about two hours. That’s how long it takes Dean to stop trembling. Right before they are finally ready to go back in the cabin, he raises those green eyes to Sam, all there, all awake.

“I’m not sure I can do this, Sammy.”

Sam hugs him harder. An entire sentence, sure, Dean’s voice is shaky, but still. 

“I am, Deedee. You just did the hardest part, right there. Whatever horrible fucking nightmare you got inside your head, you’ve proven you’re stronger than it. That you can conquer it.” 

“Sam?”

“Yes?”

“Have to tell you” Dean pushes out, like every word is way too big and hurt his mouth now, like they are growing when he tries to get more of them out.

“Tell me what, freckles?”

“It’s. Too.”

“Dean, it can wait till tomorrow. You are exhausted. I’ll help you tell me tomorrow, promise.”

Dean looks at him, so raw, so vulnerable. 

“Im-Por-Tant” he forces out.

“Look, Deedee, tomorrow I will make sure we talk about it. Even if you forget, okay?”

Dean nods, and then Sam half-carries him inside. Bobby will have to deal with the dead girl, formerly inhabited by Orion. He really, really wishes he could kill that fucking demon. But, at the same time, the demon’s actions might have been what will set his brother free, what made him come out of the protective bubble, to carry out a plan, to bring an exorcism up from memory.

* * *

And, standing just outside their view, are two angels, watching over them. 

“Should we talk to them?” Castiel asks.

“Not yet, Castiel. They don’t know about angels. We wait” the redhaired angel (or, more accurately, the angel in the redhaired vessel) answers. “They seem very upset right now.”

“Yes, they do. That demon was about to kill them” Castiel says, troubled.

“And we were one second away from showing ourselves, Castiel. Now we can choose when and how we talk to them. Let’s do it right.”

* * *

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	11. Villains that live in my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby understands what happened to Dean all those years ago. 
> 
> Title/quote: Halsey/Control

* * *

I'm well acquainted with villains that live in my bed  
They beg me to write them so they'll never die when I'm dead  
And I've grown familiar with villains that live in my head  
They beg me to write them so I'll never die when I'm dead  


* * *

The next morning, Sam wakes up just before Dean, as he always does. Maybe Dean moves a little bit before he wakes up, and that’s what wakes Sam up. He stays in the double bed he still shares with his brother, out in the main room. Bobby and Ellen are occupying the two smaller rooms, one of which was very crowded when Jo was there to share a bed with her mother.

Dean wakes up easier, slower, if he does so with Sam’s fingers in his hair. Sam is still drowsy, enjoys the moment right before he has to be fully awake again, before all responsibilities land on his shoulders. 

“Morning, Dean.” 

“Morning, Sammy.”

Sam jerks up, meeting his brother’s eyes. Then Dean does something he hasn’t done for ten years. He smiles. Sam smiles right back, tearing up again (if this doesn’t stop, he will be chronically dehydrated). Then Dean’s smile fades, his eyes flickers and it seems he’s lost again, lost to fight that inner, eternal battle.

But he smiled.

Sam is so happy Bobby and Ellen almost are worried when they first see him. Maybe he has gone a bit off his rocker, too, with all that’s been happening.

“Sam? What’s happening?” Bobby asks.

“He smiled, Bobby. He said, ‘Morning Sammy’ and then he smiled.” 

Ellen smiles now, too. It makes her shine, vibrate with power. How Bobby can’t fall for that, Sam just doesn’t get. Then she, just like Dean, is reminded of something; only she can tell him what.

“Sam, I am so sorry. I should’ve known that demon was following me.” 

“Don’t be sorry, Ellen. Happens to us all. And you might have played an important role in saving Dean. It was a real breakthrough. And Orion is back where it belongs, for now.” 

Sam lets go of Dean’s hands and sits down at the table. 

“You coming, Deedee?”

It seems that name is there to stay. Sam likes using it and it reminds Dean of better times, safer times, when he and Sam started out their journey to be inseparable. Before violence forced them to separate.

Dean is coming. He walks up to the table, such concentration all over his face they hold their breath watching, and he sits down. 

“You want egg and bacon?” Sam asks Dean, not even saying his name to make it easier for Dean to understand. He makes Dean work now, push the limits. 

“Yes.” 

Sam exchanges looks with Ellen and Bobby. This is such a difference from the first morning, when Dean had been zombie-like, not doing anything unless Sam helped him. Maybe he would still starve to death he was left alone (yes, he would) but he’s a mile away from where they started.

* * *

_think I’m here now, here at the cabin, in the woods_  
_must tell him maybe he can help it’s sammy sammy all grown same eyes_  
_don’t believe it all lies it will hurt they will get you if you believe it no run run_  
_I DON’T CARE I will try_

* * *

Sam almost forgets to eat, he’s so happy to see Dean do it, without any help, properly with a knife and fork. No slimey oatmeal with a plastic spoon any longer for his brother.

After breakfast, he sits down with Dean in the old sofa by the even older TV. Ellen and Bobby are quiet, hides at the table (from where they hear everything, because this cabin is only so big). He gently gets Dean to rest his head on his shoulder, his fingers back to do their calming work. 

“Now, freckles, let’s hear what you wanted to tell me yesterday.”

Dean breathes faster, trembles, but he doesn’t give in. He squeezes Sam’s wrist. Hard.

“Djh.”

“Djh? Try again, freckles.”

“Djinn.”

“Djinn? Wait, that’s what got you and Dad? Djinns?”

“Yes.”

“The police officers were djinns?”

“Yes.”

This doesn’t explain it all, though. 

“Djinns make you crazy, but not like this, all nice dreams to keep you captive” Sam thinks out loud.

“No, no, no, no” Dean says, shakes, pale with sweat and anxiety.

“Sam?” Bobby says.

“Yeah?” Sam says as he tries to calm Dean down again, thinking his brother might actually break the bones in his wrist this time. How he can have that kind of strength after all these years is a mystery.

“I might know something” Bobby says, quietly. He doesn’t want Dean to go off.

“Wait” Sam says, and for five minutes, he works to get Dean to breathe again. And he does. 

“Deedee, I want Bobby to come here and talk to us, okay?”

Dean nods.

“Yeah.”

“You are so fucking amazing for being here now, Dean, I know how hard it is. Just stay with me” Sam whispers as he’s gesturing for Bobby to join them.

Sam is not prepared for what meets his eyes when Bobby comes to sit in the comfy chair next to them. He’s paler than Dean, and his hands are trembling. 

“I think I know what happened to Dean, Sam. And it’s… well, I…”

“Spit it out, Bobby. I know how much pain he’s in, I need to know why.”

“Not all djinns are the same, Sam. Some dopes you up to feed easier, giving you whatever dreams you wish for while they munch on you. Others… well, they poison you instead. They give you nightmares, all the worst things you could ever imagine, and for a hunter, that’s utter horror, even for a hunter as young as Dean was. They feed off your fear, uses it as freaking seasoning. If that’s what happened to Dean, if they had time to poison him but not kill him… Sam, he could still have that in his body. I’ve never heard of survivors, I don’t know if it ever gets out of one’s system. It would explain a lot.”

“It would” Sam says. “Freckles, that what happened? Some fucking djinn dosed you up?”

“I saw…” Dean doesn’t nod or say yes, but the two little words are enough for Sam. 

“And then it, they, the fuckers, they got you so crazy you didn’t realize what you were doing, Dad neither, so they got him killed and you…” Sam says, almost incoherent himself. 

All three hunters stare at Dean, forced to live in his own worst nightmares for ten years. He’s found a way to somehow run from them, and now, to stay conscious for a while. Who knows what else he sees, what he saw when he first talked to Bobby. What he maybe sees now, except for Sam and the cabin. Had Dean been left alone, he would have died of dehydration. Had hunters got to him, he could’ve maybe explained to them. As it was, he had to keep living, with the perfect dosage of a poison to make him just sane enough to know he wasn’t, and no one around who had a chance to understand even if they tried. Simply torture.

“How do we fix this, Bobby?”

“I don’t know, son” Bobby says, and Ellen sees Sam is about to explode so she intervenes.

“But now we know what’s what, and we’ll find out, Sam. I promise. We’ll get him back.”

Ellen is behind Dean’s back, so he can’t see her, but he still listens. That warm whiskey-voice from his childhood. 

“Ellen?” he says. 

“Oh, freckles, you are a fucking miracle” Sam says, “yes, that is Ellen.”

* * *

_Ellen and Bobby and Sam they are here here with me not a lie_  
_not a lie ___

* * *

____

__  
__  


__“Yes, he is, Sam. I don’t know how he does it, how he can keep a shred of sanity” Bobby says. Then he turns to Dean._ _

__“Dean, if you can live with this just a little bit longer, I will find something. There’s always something, I just have to dig deep enough.”_ _

__“Thanks, Bobby” Sam says. “I know you will. You are a miracle too, you know.”_ _

__Bobby laughs._ _

__“I’ve been called many things.”_ _


	12. Fight the good fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe fate can't be changed. Or maybe it can. The road there certainly has. 
> 
> Title/quote: Triump/Fight the good fight

* * *

All your life you've been waiting for your chance  
Where you'll fit into the plan  
But you're the master of your own destiny  
So give and take the best that you can

* * *

Bobby wakes up, face in the book he was reading like two minutes ago, only it was three hours ago. Sleep hasn’t been a priority over the last few days, but all the hard work hasn’t paid off yet. He’s back home, because that is where all the books are. Sam and Dean are still at the cabin. Nobody should suspect the kidnapped mental patient to be holding up at his place, but it’s still riskier. There are more people coming through there, for one. They don’t want other hunters to know about Dean just yet. Not if they don’t have to.

Back at the cabin, Sam is waking up, listening to Jo humming in the kitchen. She’s no Bobby, but she sure can make a breakfast for kings. Helping hunters nursing hang-overs at the Roadhouse includes making a mean morning meal. The entire cabin is smelling of coffee and bacon. Not the worst way to wake up. 

Dean is usually okay in the mornings. He spends the nights in that hiding spot he’s found, the one so deep inside that he can escape most attacks the djinn poison hurls at him. How he manages that while sleeping is another one of those mysteries they probably will never understand. 

Sam sits up in the bed, reaching for the coffee Jo hands him. Getting coffee in bed is a small luxury he will always appreciate.

“Coffee” Dean says.

“Yeah, sweetie. You want one too?” Jo asks, waits for an answer they never know whether it will come or not.

“Yes. Thanks. Jo.”

Sam and Jo exchange a look. Jo is two years younger than Sam, and she’s very close to a new person to Dean. Still, he’s managed to learn her name. 

“One coffee coming up” Jo says, gets back to the kitchen and fills half a mug. Sam mouths to her to let Dean try on his own. Jo nods.

“There you go. Might be a bit hot.”

Dean hasn’t been drinking coffee for more than a few days, and Sam hasn’t let him have hot coffee any of those days. Now, he wants to see if Dean can handle that on his own. Dean raises his hands to receive the coffee while the two others watch. He’s not aware enough to understand he’s being watched yet, so that doesn’t bother him. He slowly puts the mug to his lips, and tilts it. Then, he stops, blows at the coffee and waits. Sam rubs his back. 

“We’ll get you better, Dean, but you are a fucking fighter. We just have to keep up with you” Sam says. 

Jo smiles at them. 

Then, suddenly, doctor Novak is in the middle of the room. Jo and Sam jerk their heads, searching for weapons before Sam makes a face and blinks. His coffee, as well as Deans, is on the floor, because he has pushed Dean when he jerked, made him spill it. Dean watches his hands, soaked with hot coffee.

“Jimmy?”

“No, Sam. Not Jimmy.”

He is dressed like Jimmy Novak, his hair is the exact same mess Jimmy never conquered, which Jo would find very attractive if she was less shocked, but he doesn’t sound like Jimmy. His voice has deepened and gotten more raw, raspy. 

“Then who the hell are you?” Sam asks, now with a gun in his hands. He never goes to bed without one within reach. 

“That won’t hurt me, Sam. I’m Castiel.”

“Maybe this will” Jo says, cocks the sawed-off. 

“No” Jimmy, or Castiel, says, turning around and touching her forehead before she has time to react (and Jo has hunter’s reflexes). Jo falls to the floor.

“What did you do to her?” Sam asks. He has the gun pointed right at Jimmy/Castiel’s head. 

“She sleeps now. We have to talk, Sam, but I have to do something first.”

“What the hell are you?”

“I’m an Angel of the Lord, or I was. I’ll explain later” Castiel says, taking a step towards them. Sam pulls the trigger and the bullet goes straight through, wounds closing and healing up as he feels Castiel’s hand (because no, that is NOT Jimmy Novak) touch him, something go through him. It doesn’t hurt. It’s more like a pressure wave. 

“Shooting me doesn’t work, Sam. We need to talk.”

“Yeah, because you’re a freaking angel of the freaking lord.”

“I am, yes.”

“Okay. Let’s say you are. What do you want with us?”

“I’d prefer nothing at all, Sam. But the other angels, Heaven, they want you.”

Castiel takes a long and piercing look at Dean as Sam tries to decide what to do. This is the kind of situation that doesn’t happen too often. Or ever. 

“If you are an angel, IF, make him better. I’ll do whatever you want, just cure him.”

“Normally, I already would have. But Sam, he’s been infested for so long, I can’t make out where the poison starts, and Dean ends. I am so very sorry, Sam.”

Sam breathes. Takes control. Assesses the situation. It’s clear this Castiel isn’t planning on hurting them right now. Maybe he could even be an angel, because nothing Sam’s ever heard of can do what Castiel just did. It’s just that Sam Winchester has never heard of anything even suggesting angels exist.

* * *

_starts now now all good will go there you knew it lies tricks to get to you_  
_that light haven’t seen it before new new tricks new lies_  
_NO trust Sammy trust him fight doesn’t matter if it hurts you STAY_

* * *

Sam gets back to Dean, holds him.

“Shhh, freckles, we’ll get through this too. Shhhh.”

“He’s very damaged, Sam.”

“Thank you, Castiel, I hadn’t noticed.”

Castiel makes a confused face.

“You must have” he says. 

First, Sam thinks Castiel is fucking with him, but he very soon realizes, when he sees the confusion in those blue eyes (aren't they bluer, more intense, than Jimmys?) that he’s not. Whatever creature he is, he doesn’t understand sarcasm. 

Sam sighs, rubs his face and runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Look, Castiel, whatever you are. What did you do to us just now?”

“I angelproofed you. The other angels will figure out you are gone very soon.” 

“You did **what**?”

“I put an enochian spell all over your ribs, to make you untraceable. We’ll have to move soon, too. They might have surveillance on your friends, and if not, they will.”

“Ah-ha. Because angels are real, and they want me and my brother.”

“Yes. I already said that. Are you in shock? I’ve heard humans in shock have problems understanding things.”

Castiel really doesn’t understand one’s tone of voice.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do they want us?”

“I’m not sure. They don’t tell me much, Sam. And now, they won’t tell me anything.”

“And how come you look like Jimmy Novak?”

“This?” Castiel takes a look at his own body. “It’s a vessel.”

“You’re POSSESSING Jimmy?”

“He said yes.” 

Sam stares at the self-proclaimed angel. This is too much. Angels hunting them, possessing people, etching things in his ribcage.

“I will go now. I will be back tomorrow. Be ready to move then. And don’t tell your friends about me. The angels might hear you.”

* * *

**The butterfly effect is the theory that one little thing can cause a chain reaction that changes the world. Like when John Winchester lets his guard down for two seconds because he sees his sixteen-year-old is in mortal danger. Dean would have been fine, but John doesn’t know that, and because of that he dies, long before he should have. Dean survives, but something happens to him that wasn’t supposed to. Because of two seconds.**

**Some believe fate can’t be changed, that all roads will lead to the same destination. The angels, for example. Dean will say yes without understanding what he does, and Sam will be so desperate to find his brother, he will be easy prey, too. Only gentle prods needed.**

**But the way Heaven doesn’t care – at all – about the excruciating pain two young boys feel, make two angels questioning their orders. Two angels who were put on Earth because Heaven believes they are in no danger of the reason why angels are very rarely sent there. Earth might rub off on them, make them develop something in the vicinity of feelings. These two wouldn’t have, they would have been observing Sam and Dean Winchester quietly, cold and invisible. Only, what the brothers go through, both so young and with such warm hearts, make them have doubts. Angels that otherwise would have been two of Heaven’s most trusted, never questioning anything. But now, they do. Because of two seconds.**

**Over ten years, they have time to exchange thoughts about this, locksend without anybody else listening. And then, when Sam finally finds his brother and they see the beauty of loving someone that much, and know Heaven wants that gone, wants the suffering to continue, the unthinkable happens. They disobey. Because of two seconds.**

**Maybe all roads don’t lead to the same destination. Or maybe they do. When Ezekiel comes to earth next week, expecting a report from Anna and a glimpse of the life of Sam Winchester to top that off, even Heaven will be unsure which is the truth.**


	13. Send me an angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby and Ellen get an update and Jo gets a big question.
> 
> Title/quote: Scorpions/Send me an angel

* * *

Close your eyes and your will find  
The passage out of the dark  
Here I am  
Will you send me an angel

* * *

Bobby and Ellen stares at the two younger hunters for a good ten seconds after they finish their tale.

“Angels?” Ellen finally says.

“Well, I’ve never been put to sleep like that before. And I doubt Sam has shot anything that healed itself up like that, either.” Jo didn’t see much, but she’s had more time to think about this and has left the shock state behind. 

Sam got Bobby and Ellen to the cabin without telling them more than “code red, still here”. Best to be careful, but he wasn’t about to let the angel (which he, in lack of better options, called the creature) get there without him having back-up. It probably won’t help, but it feels better, having Bobby and Ellen there. And, they would never forgive him if he kept them out of it. 

“Lots of things don’t care much about bullets” Bobby says. 

“They don’t heal up like that thing did” Sam says.

“Shouldn’t we run, then?” Ellen asks.

“I have a feeling this Castiel will find us anywhere we go. And what if he’s telling the truth?” Sam says, wrinkling his forehead. “And, one other thing.” He turns to Dean, who’s been gone most of the time since Castiel left them.

“Freckles? Can you come out of there and tell us what you saw?”

Dean shivers. 

“We’re all here, sweetie. You are safe” Jo says, putting one hand on Dean’s arm. 

“You don’t have to, Deedee. But Ellen and Bobby should hear it from you” Sam says softly, fingers in Dean’s hair again. 

Dean shakes his head, pained expression.

“Light.”

“You saw the light?”

“Bright light. Couldn’t see.”

Sam turns back to Bobby and Ellen. “Sometimes, people who have a psychiatric illness sees things we don’t” he says. 

“And Dean saw bright light” Bobby says. “The kind of thing one might imagine would surround an angel.”

“Wings” Dean says. “Big wings.”

Sam’s eyes widen. 

“That’s new.”

“Oh, sweetie, you are very brave” Jo says. “Thankyou.”

Sam gives Jo a long, piercing look.

“What?” Jo says, immediately on the defense. She’s the youngest hunter wherever she goes, and she has a temper. This ends, quite often, with her being angry for being forced to the safest position. Not being taken seriously like the others. It’s driving her nuts, always having to prove herself, and it makes her sometimes overreact when she thinks her actions are being put to question. 

“Jo, I’d like to ask you a big favor.” 

Someone saying that usually is a way of trying to get her out of harm’s way. Jo really doesn’t like that. Even less considering they think she’s that gullible, like a child.

“This angel, or whatever it is, wants us. If I have to fight, I want you to take care of Dean.”

Jo opens her mouth to tell Sam how she feels about being asked to babysit instead of fight. Then she closes it again, meets those intense hazel eyes.

“This isn’t about you trying to get me out of the fight, is it?”

“No, Jo, it really isn’t. I’ve seen you with him, and you are fucking fierce, Jo. You can handle him, and if needed, I know you will keep him safe.”

Jo feels almost overwhelmed. This is the other way around from what she first thought. Sam is asking her to do something he was prepared to do himself for however long it took. Something they all felt he wouldn’t let anyone else do. Not Ellen, not Bobby, not nobody.

“I won’t let him down, Sam” she says. Not “I won’t let YOU down”, no, because Jo might be young, but she is smart. She understands this. 

Sam smiles, with a tear in his eye.

“I will owe you forever, Jo.”

Ellen watches with such pride in her heart she almost bursts. 

“I love you, Joanna Beth Harvelle” she says. “I hope your father can see you now.”

Jo’s father died last year, and neither of the Harvelle women are done grieving just yet. Then, they probably never will. But the pain has dulled, the memory of him more often brings a warm feeling in their hearts than it does sharp pain. Jo had time to learn from him, hunt with him (because of two seconds, but Jo will never know that). He lived a hunter’s life and he had a hunter’s funeral, leaving a letter for his daughter. A letter he’d rewritten over the years, knowing he’d never know when it was about to be needed.

_Jo, I want you to know, I’ve saved up college money for you. Knowing you, you’ll spend it on ammo. Know I want you to be safe, and have a great, long, life. The only thing I want more than that is for you to be happy and satisfied. I know when you are, Jo, but please, if you ever decide to get out, keep some of that money. Take care of your mother. And Jo – I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my entire damned life._

Jo keeps that letter in her hunter’s diary, reads it every time she picks it up. She wishes she had something like that to read to Dean, from his father. 

Ellen and Jo hug, Sam and Jo hug, and then everybody takes a deep breath. 

“Let’s get back to it” Bobby says. He takes the box he brought in from the car and is about to let it slam down on the table, then remembers, and puts it down gentle. No reason to risk Dean being triggered into panic. He seems worse now, thrown by Castiel’s visit.

“Everybody has reading assignments for tonight” he says. Sam sighs and picks up a book, _Angelic myths_. It’s very old, and the letters are sometimes hard to make out. This is going to be one long night. 

“I’ll try and get him to sleep” Jo says, ready to make good on her promise. Dean needs to get used to her if she has to take care of him without Sam present later. No one is ready to admit that arrangement could be needed if one of them doesn’t make it through this fight. But they know that’s the truth. 

Sam just nods, but Jo can see what that means to him. She takes Dean by the hand and gets him to the bed. Jo is not unfamiliar with the male anatomy, but it still feels a little strange helping a grown man change into pajamas. Dean is learning to do it all by himself, but he still needs Jo to show him the way. In the hospital, he was never allowed to do this. They didn’t have the patience to let him. He can take a shower, too, but he needs to be led there, feel the water on his skin before he understands what he’s supposed to do. But Sam knows his brother is grateful for being allowed to do these things, as best he can, not being manhandled through them before he understands what’s happening. 

“I know it’s been a long day, honey. Here, you have to swallow this before you go to sleep.” Jo splits the pill in two, down on the minimal dosage now. Maybe Dean could do without, but Jo feels it’s not the night to try. Then she climbs into bed with him, her soft fingers playing in his hair. It takes time for her, the rosy scent not being what Dean is used to at bedtime, but she gets him there.


	14. Knockin’ on heavens door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam strikes a deal with the angels, since it seems they are what they say they are.
> 
> Title/quote: Bob Dylan/Knockin' on heavens door

* * *

Mama put my guns in the ground  
I can't shoot them anymore  
That cold black cloud is comin' down  
Feels like I'm knockin' on heaven's door

* * *

“He sleeps now” she says as she sits down by the table and starts reading one of Bobby’s ancient books. Just not one that’s not in English. Jo’s never been big on the research part of hunting. Languages don’t come easy to her, but she knows how to use the one she’s got, playing people as she plays her guitar.

“At least, we don’t have to search for lore. There is too goddamn much of it” Sam sighs and curses as his computer tries it best to work with the very bad internet connection they get out here. He’s abandoned the books for the moment, leaving that to the more proficient older hunters. 

Jo rolls her eyes. “Wonderful. I love tons and tons of lore to last me through the night” she says. 

At four, none of them have made much progress. Angels do seem to be fierce, a force to be reckoned with, and they do seem to have a lot of juice. IF they’re not fictional. Nothing solid on that so far. 

“Jo, why don’t you go to sleep” Ellen says. “That new responsibility of yours will wake up in a few hours and out of the two of you, Sam is a lot more useful around lore, and you know it. Be fresh for the other Winchester instead. Or, well, fresh-er.”

Jo nods, too tired to put up a fight even if she didn’t know Ellen is spot on. 

“You want me to sleep in his bed?” she asks Sam.

“Is that okay with you? You know how he is in the morning” Sam says (and, Dean needs to learn Sam doesn’t have to be there for him to wake up safe).

Jo gives him a little smile and gets under the covers next to the older Winchester. He doesn’t snore like her mother does, and this bed is bigger. 

Sam is about to wake her up a few hours later, but she does so on her own. Just like Sam, she’s programmed her brain to wake up as soon as the man next to her moves. She gets closer to him, thinking about how that hair desperately needs a cut as she eases him into awakening.

Sam wants to come over, but he resists the urge. Jo will bring Dean to them soon, and he needs to let go a little if Dean is to have two guardians, no matter how hard it is to do so. Bobby takes one look at them and goes into the kitchen to make breakfast. Coffee, there’s a lot of already. It’s a wonder the smell hasn’t woken Dean and Jo up earlier. 

Waiting for breakfast to be done, Jo walks Dean through all the morning things people do. She’s not embarrassed. It helps that she’s taken care of several wounded hunters over the years (the Roadhouse sometimes moonshines as a field hospital). Then she gets Dean to the table, quickly emptied from books by Sam and Ellen. They all have to eat, regain some energy.

“So, what have you geniuses found out while we were sleeping?” Jo asks. 

“Not much” Ellen sighs, her deep voice marked by the sleepless night. “We’ll have to go by our guts here, but IF Castiel is an angel, we have pretty good ideas of what he could do. Problem is, ideas, not idea. The lore is too extensive to give clear answers. Some things reoccur a lot, though.”

The three nightreaders catches Jo up over an, as always with Bobby around, incredible breakfast.

“I’ll get you a job at the Roadhouse” Jo says to Bobby, smiling. She makes sure Dean eats, but lets him do it in his own pace. He’s still a little shook-up, needs to take his time. 

Dean is next to Sam, too. Sam put an arm around him when he got there. 

“Morning, freckles. Jo taking good care of you?”

Dean doesn’t use words this morning, but he nods.

* * *

_bright light wings new maybe new for real not a trick light hurts hurts shows things_  
_stay here stay stay let it hurt sammy is here_  
_it happened before comes back no other bright light sammy is here now_

* * *

Jo smiles but with a tinge of pain. 

“Does he hurt physically, Sam? Seems he was afraid of the water this morning, like the shower would be painful.”

“I think he does, sometimes, Jo. You know, the psyche is a powerful thing. People get drunk or even high on LSD if they’re given a placebo, just as long as they think they get the real deal. I think that’s what happens sometimes. His mind tells him he’s hurting, so he is.”

Jo swallows, closes her eyes, breathes in and out. Gets back. Like she said, if Dean can take it, she can. She turns to Dean.

“You are amazing, sweetie. Absolutely fucking amazing.”

“He is,” Sam says, “he’s fighting it to stay here.”

After breakfast, they keep reading. Dean is sitting there with them, but he’s disappeared inside again. Doing the mundane morning things took all of his energy.

* * *

Even if you know they’re coming, someone just showing up out of thin air with a strange, fluttering sound ( _wings, big wings_ , they all think) still makes you jump. 

“Castiel.”

“Sam. Didn’t I tell you not to tell them?”

“If you’ve followed the Life of the Winchesters, you should know hunters aren’t in the habit of letting supernatural things tell us what to do.” Sam says.

“We come as a package, wingboy” Bobby continues.

Castiel sighs, visibly annoyed.

“Fine, but I can’t fly with all of you.”

“We never agreed to fly anywhere with you” Sam says.

“You have to. We have to hide you before Ezekiel comes to earth and we don’t want anyone to see you on the way” Castiel says. “Me and Anna will have to take turns flying with you.” He shakes his head. “This will take a lot of my energy.”

“You are one oddly accommodating creature” Bobby says, squinting, assessing.

“Yes. Sometimes I wonder how I got like that. I used to be a good soldier” Castiel says, not without sadness in his eyes. 

Then a redheaded girl shows up, just like Castiel did. 

“They want to come – all of them?” she asks, not happy.

“Yes” Castiel answers. 

The redhead turns to them.

“I’m Anna. If we fly you to where we want you, and we take all of you, will you stay put?”

Sam exchanges looks with the others.

“For now,” he says. 

Being zapped to another place is not a pleasant experience for any of them, and it makes Dean shiver and shake in a way he hasn’t for a long time.

“I’m sorry he’s hurting, Sam. I had no other way to do this” Castiel says. 

Sam doesn’t answer. His attention is fully on his brother, calming him down before it gets worse. Jo is by their side, ready to help.

The angels wait patiently. After all, they’ve been doing that for a very, very long time. They are good at waiting. 

When Dean is calm again, Bobby and Ellen have scoped the place out. It’s another cabin, not unlike the one they came from, only bigger and a little nicer. Castiel tells them he has to show them a few things, all of them. Then he makes them almost fully believe what he says is the truth, because he shows them that the rooms, except for the big one where the kitchen is situated, are angelproofed with strange symbols not even Bobby recognizes. He can’t lock the entire cabin from angels, he explains, because he and Anna want to be able to get in. He also shows them a few tricks that will work on angels. 

“Aren’t you worried we might use this on **you**?” Sam says.

“I don’t believe you will” Castiel answers, blue eyes looking straight into his.

“Or it’s all mumbo-jumbo.”

Castiel steps a bit closer to Bobby, touches him gently, and seemingly gets a little bit lightheaded. 

“Flying back and forth with passengers made me a little weak” he says as Bobby looks like he’s seen a ghost (or more accurately, something that would shock him). 

“Sam” he says.

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t felt this good in many years. I think that Castiel just gave me the ambrosia infusion.”

“You’re welcome” Castiel says, sits down. 

“Castiel, you shouldn’t strain yourself” Anna says.

“I’ll be fine.”

* * *

The angels have left, going to do whatever angels do. 

“So, we all agree they ARE angels?” Sam asks, still keeping Dean right by him.

“I guess so” Bobby says. “Guess we’ve got some more reading to do.”

Anna hadn’t been pleased with the idea of flying all the books there, but she had agreed because leaving a trail of books on angels wasn’t the best of ideas if Ezekiel somehow found Bobby’s cabin. More importantly, she and Castiel wants the humans calm and ready to listen to them, and even if she’s not as mild as Castiel she does understand that is made possible by giving the humans what they ask for. Not burying the books was one of those things. 

Bobby had snuck a few ones on djinns in there, too. He had brought these in case he had two minutes spare time. Dean needed to be cured just as bad now as he did before, even if Castiel’s inability to do so was, to put it mildly, discouraging. 

“According to my GPS, we’ve been zapped to the other side of the country” Sam says. “That speaks for the angel theory. So does Bobby’s newfound youth.”

“You think there will be anything left of the Roadhouse when we get back?” Ellen says to Jo.

“Guess we’ll see if we ever get back” Jo sighs. “Whatever happens, we’ll make it work, Mom. We always do.”

“True, honey” Ellen says and gives her a rough hug. 

Little do they know, that if it wasn’t for two seconds, the Roadhouse would be a smoldering pile on the ground, and Ash would be dead, not able to do any damage to anything anymore. 

“Since we’ve already agreed to be kidnapped for a while,“ Bobby says, “maybe we should try and read those books about the djinns one more time before we go back on angels.”

“That would be great, Bobby” Sam answers. If they are telling the truth, we could really use my brother all here. Speaking of Dean, I think he needs to walk around, do something. The angels zapping us here maybe hurt him, but we can’t let him slip back too far.”

“Those books are absolutely mind-numbing, Sam. I’ll gladly take him on a tour.” 

“Thanks, Jo. Don’t go too far from the cabin, though. The angels didn’t want us to, and I want Dean where I can help you if something goes wrong.”

“Sure. Dean, sweetie, I’m going to take your hand now. We’re gonna walk a bit, you and me. That’s okay with you?”

Dean doesn’t answer, but he gets up and walks with Jo. Slowly. It takes her hours to explore their surroundings with him. But Jo, who has no patience for the books, has all the patience in the world for Dean, because when she asks him to squeeze her hand if he’s okay, he does. That’s enough for her. People is her reason for hunting, helping them, and somehow this one, who she remembers kind of vaguely, has found his way into her heart very quickly. She finds herself telling him stories about her father, stories from when she grew up. Only happy stories, nothing about hunting and death and misery. Her voice keeps him calm, gives him something to focus on, as it floats in the air around him, disperses some of the nightmares that constantly follows Dean Winchester. Nightmares that are hard to separate from other things he sees, which is why he didn’t want to see at all for so many years.

* * *

_follow the voice that’s jo sammy says trust jo I will_  
_bright light big wings bad news I know something I know something can’t remember no can’t go there_  
_for sammy I can I will try go there remember bright light big wings_

* * *

“Dean? Sweetie? Time to eat, they say. Bobby’s made something for us.”

**And so, the people that wandered far off track, got settled in a life with angels in it. Their stubbornness and willingness to believe the unbelievable put them farther and farther off the road that was paved for them, so long ago. But as Sam said, hunters aren’t known for following orders.**


	15. Heaven and Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wants to share information, and when he does, Sam and Jo know to listen.
> 
> Titel/quote: Black Sabbath/Heaven and Hell.

* * *

The closer you get to the meaning  
The sooner you'll know that you're dreaming  
So it's on and on and on, oh it's on and on and on  
It goes on and on and on, Heaven and Hell

* * *

The angels have been gone for three days, and the little group agrees: They need to get their kind-of-kidnappers to tell them more. Only they don’t know when the angels will decide to come back. They have read all the books (some twice) and haven’t gotten much further, and Bobby has done all humanly possible with the ingredients disposable to him to make the cabin safe for anything but angels – they will have to trust Castiel and Anna to have taken care of that.

This morning, Sam wakes up when the sun goes up. Jo’s sleeping in Dean’s bed, and it feels weirdly empty in his. He’s already used to have somebody there in the mornings. His bed smells faintly of roses, since he and Jo takes turns to sleep in it. It’s not unpleasant. He gets up and makes coffee, knocks on Dean’s door. 

“We’re awake” Jo says with a sleepy voice and Sam pushes the door open. Dean reaches for the coffee. 

“Morning, Deedee.”

“Morning, Sammy.”

Sam smiles, and Jo smiles. Then Jo gets serious.

“Dean, can you tell Sam what you told me when you woke up?”

Dean concentrates. 

“Must tell Sam. Something.”

“What do you need to tell me, freckles?”

Dean pushes out words. It’s not easy for him, but he works hard at it.

“Remember. Will say yes. Bright light. He won’t understand. Big wings. Michael.”

“I don’t really understand that” Sam says. “Sorry, Deedee, can you try again?”

Jo looks at him.

“He’s talking about angels, right? Bright light, big wings?”

Dean breathes heavily. He really tries.

“Bright light said he will say yes. He won’t understand. Say yes to Michael.”

Jo and Sam exchanges glances. This does not make sense, but neither of them doubts it will if they can decode it. Dean might not be sane, but he’s not exactly insane, either. If he uses all that energy to get the message through, it is important. But the angels haven’t talked about anything even close to what Dean is saying. Jo inhales and gets that look in her eyes, like when she’s onto something but she doesn’t know what yet. Books might not be her thing, but intuition and connecting things most certainly are.

“Sweetie, are you talking about the angels we met, Castiel and Anna?”

Dean shakes his head violently and Jo turns to Sam.

“If he met angels before, and they were less pleasant, that might trigger his reactions to these ones, right?”

“Yeah, it could. Deedee, you met those other angels at Blackwater? The big wings, were they back at the hospital?” 

Dean’s eyes are as awake as Sam has seen them since he was a child, before Dean was taken from him. 

“Yes. Big wings. Hurt me.”

Jo and Sam both get close to Dean, Sam squeezes his shoulders and Jo kiss him on the cheek. They tell him he’s freaking awesome. Because he is. They have another piece of the puzzle, a puzzle they know will end up a nightmare. But they still have to solve it.

* * *

Ellen and Bobby both agrees this is big, of course. Bobby, always playing the devil’s advocate, asks if they can be sure this is not a figment of Dean’s djinnjuice, but Sam says no. It’s not. But what to do with it? 

“Okay, you can pray to angels, right? They should hear you then, shouldn’t they?” Sam asks. 

The other shrugs. 

“Maybe” Bobby says. “Why?”

Sam sighs.

“Okay then. Castiel, angel of the lord, I pray to you to get the… ehrm, get your ass here, please, Castiel. Amen.

“Idjit” Bobby says with emphasis and an eyeroll, but too soon, because one second later, Castiel shows up. 

“It worked” Sam says, surprised. 

“Of course, it worked, Sam” Castiel says. “How many times do I have to tell you I am an angel? People praying usually show more respect. Maybe you should try that. This insolence is tiring.” 

The energy in the cabin suddenly became… something else. Almost electrified, a weird energy making them all feel on edge.

“No, no, no. Big wings, big wings” Dean says, clutching his head, very close to start attack the air around him. 

“Okay, okay, Castiel, I’ll do that, just stop whatever you’re doing” Sam says as he’s trying to get to Dean before the panic attack unfolds.

The energy is gone and Castiel tilts his head, watches Dean.

“You see my wings?” 

Dean can’t answer. He whispers to himself, trembles.

* * *

When Dean is finally calm again, Castiel has been sitting perfectly still for an hour. It’s like he’s a statue.

“So, Sam, why did you pray to me?”

“We need to figure this out, Castiel. Tell me why the angels want us.”

“I told you, I don’t know.”

“Oh, you know something. You **are** an angel.”

“No, he’s telling the truth, Sam. We don’t know” Anna says behind his back.

Sam jerks around.

“Would you STOP doing that” he says. “Ahem. Please.” Sam remembers that an hour ago, Castiel got tired of him being “insolent” and took his wings out and shook them till Dean panicked. Best be polite for now.

“Fly?” Anna asks. “It’s how we move, Sam.”

Sam sighs. This is not the most important question right now.

“Could you tell me what angels in general wants people for?”

Castiel and Anna exchanges glances. 

“Specific people, mostly because they are vessels. Very rarely, because they can do something Heaven wants them to.”

“Are we vessels?”

Castiel’s eyes are piercing him like a laser. Sam has never felt so naked in his entire life, even if he’s fully dressed. He does the same to Dean, who shivers and squeezes Jo’s arm so tight she will have a nice bruise tomorrow. Like Sam, she doesn’t make a face, just whispers to Dean he’s okay, she’s there, he will be fine. Then those sky blue eyes, formerly belonging to Jimmy Novak, grow wide in surprise. 

“You are very powerful vessels, the both of you.”

“So an angel would like to swoop down and invade our sweet asses” Sam mumbles.

“We can’t _invade_ you, Sam. You have to approve.”

“You mean you guys can’t possess us if we don’t say yes?”

“I guess you could put it like that.”

“And these two are _powerful_ vessels, you say?” Bobby says. “Powerful enough for say, an archangel?”

Castiel and Anna looks very curious. Anna takes a closer look at the brothers, too.

“We didn’t see it before, because we weren’t told to look at you, we were told to keep track of your actions. But yes, you are the most powerful vessels I’ve ever seen. You could hold an archangel. Not many can, and most who can would burn out within days. You wouldn’t. It’s very likely this is why Heaven wants you.”

“So they could be possessed by, say, the archangel Michael?” Bobby asks. 

“Michael wouldn’t take a vessel” Castiel says.

“Never?” Sam asks. 

“The only time Michael will ever take a vessel again is the Apocalypse” Anna says. She looks a bit pale just mentioning that. “Why do you ask about this?”

“Because we think Dean has met your angel friends, when he was in the hospital. They did something not so pleasant to him and then they said that he would say yes, not knowing what he did. Say yes to Michael.”

The angels both stagger backwards. 

“Are you sure about this, Sam?” Anna breathes.

“As sure as I can be about anything in this goddamn mess” Sam says, rubbing his face. 

“Please don’t blaspheme, Sam” Castiel says, but it’s clear his mind is somewhere else. “I was watching over Dean, I would have noticed angels getting there and testing him.”

“You were there the entire time, every second?” Sam asks.

“Not when Heaven demanded my presence, but…” Castiel answers, stop mid-sentence. “Anna, could this be possible? Could Heaven prepare for the apocalypse?” 

“That would mean Lucifer is about to walk free” Anna says. “How could that be possible?”

“LUCIFER?” Bobby half yells. “The freaking DEVIL is about to come visit?”

“We really can’t say, Bobby. But if it’s true Heaven wants Dean to be Michaels vessel… and in his current state, he’s not likely to say no…”

“I’m not so sure about that” Sam says. “He’s proven he’s stronger than any of us. But this, this is big. Too big for us.”

“That’s a vast understatement” Castiel says. 

“If this is true, the demon’s will want you, too. We will have to hide from them as well” Anna says.

Castiel sighs and the angels are both gone, presumably to hide the Winchesters from yet another enemy. 

**It should be a vast understatement, as Castiel says. But still, the Winchesters are destined to play a role in the apocalypse. Even if all evidence points to the fact that it is impossible for them to change anything, they already have, if not by free will.**

**Azazel is not going to be very happy Jake will have to sub for Sam, who’s dropped off the map thanks to two hard-working angels. Sam was his absolute favorite, but old Yellow-eyes has a schedule. He doesn’t have the time to search for Sam. Very soon, Jake will be his champion. The demon would be happier if he knew this will leave him alive and second in command to Lilith, not dead at the hands of Dean Winchester as he was supposed to. Doesn’t do Jake much good though, as he’s not really needed once he’s used to open the gate to hell (having no other value, as Sam does), releasing Lilith’s chosen army all in one go. A lot easier than pulling them out one at a time, which would have taken a century, deep down as they were.**

**To Jake, those two seconds really doesn’t matter. But they could be what changes fate and saves, or destroys, the world.**


	16. Sympathy for the devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No news would have been better. 
> 
> Title/quote: Rolling stones / Sympathy for the devil

* * *

Just as every cop is a criminal  
And all the sinners saints  
As heads is tails  
Just call me Lucifer  
'Cause I'm in need of some restraint

* * *

“Morning, sweetie” Jo says as she reaches for the coffee. Dean is already up, Sam next to him, still drowsy from sleep deprivation. They’ve been going on this djinn thing for a week now, and Sam has slept way too few hours.

“Morning, Jo” Dean answers, sipping coffee. 

“Anyone else here, Dean honey?” Jo asks.

Dean points to an empty chair. “Dead Dad.”

Jo shakes her head. Ever since Castiel told them Dean sees a lot more than they do, they’ve tried to keep tabs on what. Castiel is stumped by the fact Dean seems to get better at distinguishing reality from djinnvision every time the angel stops by. Sam and Jo are not. Bobby and Ellen are cautious. They don’t want their young ones to get their hopes up too much. The backlash from Castiel’s arrival could mean reintroducing Dean to a reality, not adjusted to his needs, could make him retreat into himself again. 

“Morning, Jo” Sam says and yawns. “I was thinking we might try and let this one sleep on his own tonight. He was wide awake when I woke up and he seemed perfectly fine.”

“I was” Dean says.

They both turn to him. This is the first time Dean has participated in a casual conversation, not being directly addressed and not pushing words out because they have to come out. 

“Hey there, freckles” Sam says. “If we don’t watch out, you will cure yourself before we find a way to do that.”

* * *

_I know now, I can stay here. I see it. See the truth, not just the lies. Stay. With Sammy. And Jo._

* * *

“Still nothing except killing the djinns?” Jo asks. 

“No, and they are dead. Or, one of them escaped and has been in the wind for the last ten years. Not much hope there.”

“There is something else” Bobby says, yawning as he comes out of his room. “There has to be. Anyone up for breakfast or did you already eat?”

“Just coffee, Bobby. Would never eat if I could wait for you to make something for me” Sam says. Breakfast, both the eating part and the waking up-talk part, was what he’d missed most when he was away at college. 

Bobby goes to the kitchen in the other end of the room. “We’ll have to send the angels grocery shopping again” he says. “I wonder how long they plan to keep us here.”

“Until we find a way to cure Dean, it’s good to have a place safeguarded in all ways we know and then some” Sam says. “But yeah, we can’t live here the rest of our lives.” 

“You want me to put stuff to make a cake on the list, Sam?” Bobby asks. (The weirdness of having Heaven’s army getting them beer and toilet paper has slowly faded)

“Why?” Sam says, confused.

“It’s January twenty-second, Sam.”

“Oh. That’s true. Dean will be twenty-seven in two days.”

“You want a cake, sweetie?” Jo asks Dean.

“Pie” Dean says smiling.

“Of course,” Sam snickers. “What else. We’ll have Bobby make you pies to last you a week, Deedee.”

* * *

The small party is interrupted by bad news. Castiel shows up, telling them the world just got a lot more dangerous. A horde of demons escaped hell. 

“We need to be out there” Sam says. 

“No, Sam. This is not a coincidence” Castiel says. “Anna’s been eavesdropping on the angels. They know the demons are on the loose, and they are ordered not to intervene.”

“Those demons will kill a lot of innocent people” Sam said, not happy with the angel. "And the angels, they will just let them?"

Castiel looks troubled. 

“I guess so. I’ve had some time to think, Sam. About something else. If Dean is Michael’s vessel, that’s why heaven wants him. But you? Michael only needs the one.”

“How about the other archangels?” 

“There is one other archangel that would need a vessel if the Apocalypse is about to happen. Lucifer.” 

“You think the fucking **devil** wants to pilot me?” Sam asks, pale. 

“He needs even more than the others, though. You would have to be extraordinary strong. If you are supposed to be Lucifer’s vessel, you had to be prepared as a baby to be able to make the necessary actions.” 

“So how do we know?” Sam asks, never one to back down even when he’s scared as hell.

“Have you ever had any special abilities? Done something that you shouldn’t be able to?”

“No, nev…” Sam says, but doesn’t finish the sentence.

“Sam?” Bobby says.

“The way I found Dean, it’s a bit… weird. I dreamt about him, dreamt he was taken by police. I just thought it was my subconscious process, you know, but it was very, very vivid. I even saw the name tag of one police officer.”

“That might be it,” Anna says, making them all jump again. “Would you let me take a look?” 

“Angelic pat-down, who could say no to that” Sam sighs.

“It will be a lot more than that” Anna says. “It will hurt.”

Sam shrugs. “Let’s do it, then. Just don’t get stuck in there. No wish to be an angel puppet here.” 

It does hurt, but not as much as the knowledge that he’s tainted. Demon blood hidden inside him.

“Seems we have two brothers to clean up” Bobby says, a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Sam, whatever else Lucifer needs you to do, we won’t let him make you.”

“Man, our lives just got very weird. And, considering where we started out, that’s…”

Bobby sighs. “I know, kid. But we’ll get through it.” 

Ellen and Jo also put one hand on him, let him know they’re not about to run. Whatever awaits, they are a team, angels and demons be damned. Then, a wondrous thing. Dean lifts his arms, and he freaking **hugs** Sam. “S’ gonna be OK” he says. Like he used to. Sam can’t help it, he cries. And, of course, hugs Dean back. “I know, big brother. Now that I’ve got you.”

* * *

**Soon, ten years will have passed since Evan Hudson sold his soul to save his wife. It’s far from Lilith’s original plan, but it will make do. Lilith and the angels have that in common; they believe the road might be a bit bumpy, but prophesies will still come true because they can be fulfilled in more than one way. The timeline might be a bit wrong, the people sometimes get replaced, but the end result still is the same.**

**Evan Hudson was supposed to be saved by Sam and Dean Winchester, but he won’t be, because of two seconds. This, Lilith believes, is fate. A door closes, a window opens. Evan is a lot easier to break than John or Dean Winchester would have been, and he still IS a righteous man. Heaven won’t save _him_ , though, because Evan is not a powerful vessel, and higher up in the hierarchy, that was what would have created the order to save Dean, had he been downstairs. Now, both Evan and Dean get to be stuck in hell, just in different ways. **


	17. The Song Remains the Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Sam asks, Dean will do whatever he can. Even if he shouldn't.
> 
> Title/Quote: Led Zeppelin / The song remains the same

* * *

I had a dream  
Oh, yeah  
Crazy dream, uh-huh  
Anything I wanted to know  
Any place I needed to go

* * *

One might think that the great revelations of Sam and Dean Winchester’s role in the Apocalypse would keep the world from ever being the same. One would be wrong. They are still researching angels and djinns, only now with the super fun addition called “The Apocalypse” to the list. They are still living in a cabin, blocked from angel- and demon-radar. The angels are still checking in on them, bringing them groceries, and now, books. They are still not out there, fighting the demons that seems to be doing nothing (which is very ominous if you ask any of them). More than two weeks have passed and absolutely nothing have changed. Or, some small things have.

Dean is getting better, still, but it has slowed down considerably. He’s off his meds, now. 

Castiel is around a bit more, and he seems to like Dean’s company. He tries to talk to Dean, and if Sam and Jo have patience, it’s nothing compared to an angel who’s been waiting for orders for hundreds of years at a time. 

Sam asks Castiel a lot of questions about angels, and the angel always tries to answer, even if it’s apparent it hurts him not being a part of the “angel hive”, as Sam now calls it, anymore. Sam is about to know more about angelic life than any person on the planet Earth ever has.

Anna is not as accommodating. She stays away most of the time, and she’s not mild-mannered when she is there. Sam draws the conclusion she really didn’t want this, but her (for an angel extremely rare) moral compass wouldn’t let her not disobey. 

“Hello, Dean” Castiel says one morning. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot, Sam. I can go back out and knock if you want to?” 

Sam has tried to get Castiel to land outside the cabin and knock. The angel keeps forgetting, though. And Dean never gets scared anymore. He’s the only one who never bats an eye when Castiel shows up, because he’s used to a lot of worse things suddenly appearing. 

“Doesn’t matter now, Castiel” Sam says. Maybe the angel learns about humans as much as Sam does about angels. 

“Hey, Cas” Dean says. 

“That is not my whole name, Dean. Are you not well this morning?”

Sam laughs. “I think he’s given you a pet name, Castiel. Means he likes you.”

“Oh” the angel says and smiles. “Should I give him one back?” 

“That’s fine, Castiel. These things kind of have to happen on their own” Sam answers, still laughing a little bit.

“Humans are very strange sometimes” Castiel says. “Do you want to go for a walk, Dean?”

It takes a few seconds for Dean to catch up. 

“Sure.” 

“Is it okay, Sam?”

“If Dean wants to.” 

_An angel asking my permission to take my djinn-poisoned brother, who the archangel Michael might want to use as a costume, so he can fight the devil, possessing me. Maybe I’m the one who’s stuck in a hospital_ , Sam thinks. He sees Bobby thinks the same thing and they give each other a smile. Ellen watches the odd pair walk out of the cabin. “At least we know an angel is watching over him, right?” she says. 

Sam has been trying to research his own tainted blood as well, but there’s mostly nothing on that. The apocalypse and the angels, they are drowning in lore and myths and texts. Evil demon-blood-sickness, not so much. Castiel promises Sam won’t suddenly “go darkside”, an expression Sam had to explain in detail to the angel. Dean might have problems sorting out what they are saying from everything else his mind is trying to trick him is there, but Castiel has his problems, too. He’s very literal and he understands no references to anything remotely modern. 

Jo watches the odd pair, too. “You know, Sam, the angels speaking that freely about Dean being Michael’s vessel, they must have thought he never would be able to tell anyone. Can’t help but wonder, what if they talked about other stuff, too?” 

“Something that could help us find the more useful passages in the enormous pile of books that will soon have to get their own room? That would be helpful” Sam says. “Our little spy-angels don’t seem to get anywhere, either.” 

“You noticed they suck at the research part?” Jo snickers. “They wouldn’t know if they found something out.”

“They aren’t wired for thinking on their own, Jo. But you’re right. That’s why I keep questioning Castiel. Whatever else he knows, he doesn’t understand that he knows it.

“You think we could get Dean to go back there?” Jo asks, thoughtful and not very happy.

“He would probably try if we asked him.”

“You two have gotten him back here before” Ellen says. “You can do it again.”

“I just don’t want him to have to do that” Sam says. 

“You’ll like it less if he ends up an angel’s sock puppet” Bobby sighs.

* * *

“We need to ask you to do something, Deedee, and you can say no, okay?”

“I’ll do it.”

“You don’t know what ‘it’ is, sweetie” Jo says. 

“Doesn’t. Matter.”

Sam shakes his head in a pained expression.

“Okay then. We were wondering if those angels that came to you back in the hospital talked about anything else.”

Sam waits for Dean to process. 

“You want me to remember.”

“If you can.”

Dean meets his eyes. 

“I’ll try.”

The older Winchester closes his eyes, concentrates on what’s inside of him. What he has hidden away for so long.

* * *

_too much too much no look for more big wings go there not down not down turn_   
_don’t want this again not again_   
_go_   
_go_

* * *

Dean trembles. His jaw clenches and he’s hyperventilating. Jo and Sam hold his hands, don’t care how much he’s crushing them. He whimpers. Then he cries.

“You can come back, sweetie, you don’t have to do this” Jo says.

Ellen and Bobby watch quietly. The heartbreaking agony of a man, who’s so recently been let out of some of this, is making their throats thick and their insides cold. 

“Deedee? How’s it going in there?”

* * *

_no no not that night don’t want to no no go away run run_   
_STAY_   
_it hurts i made it go away not back not again it happened already_   
_it can happen again it happened a lot STAY_

* * *

Dean doesn’t answer, but suddenly, his body is convulsing, he’s kicking and punching. Impossible to reach, like at the hospital. Sam is holding him down, trying to calm him with his own bodyweight, but this time, it doesn’t work. Dean’s panic won’t settle down.

“We have to give him something, Bobby, this is too much” Sam says, loudly. “Hand me that syringe.”

That Sam felt the need to prepare a syringe beforehand is very telling. He was afraid it might go like this, and he still let Dean go through it. _You’ll like it less if he ends up an angel’s sock puppet_ rings in his head as he gives his brother a shot that would calm someone a lot heavier than him. But he knows the dosage it takes from working at the hospital. It goes fast this way. Dean goes limp within a minute, almost passed out. His eyes are all green fog, he’s not there. Sam wonders where he goes. Is it really helping, or does it merely stop Dean from reacting to his pain physically?

He and Jo, who feels horrible for suggesting they try this, sit with Dean for hours. Jo cries silently, and so does Sam. They know they’ve caused so much pain and are scared the trauma might cause permanent damage. 

“He chose this, Sam” Bobby says, hand on his shoulder. 

“He did it for me, Bobby. I shouldn’t have asked it of him.”

“Honey, if you hadn’t, he wouldn’t forgive you if he understood what’s at stake” Ellen says, lifting her head, holding Jo. “You did the right thing. He’ll come back, you’ll see.” 

He doesn’t. Jo and Sam take turns, one sleeping by Dean’s side and one awake on the other side. They stay with him the entire day. He’s now back to the state Sam once found him in. Sam even has to feed him. When the night comes, they are exhausted. Not from doing anything, but from the constant analysis, waiting for a sign, any little sign. No sign comes. 

Ellen and Bobby read, but they don’t really understand what they read. Once, halfway through a book, Bobby realizes he’s already read that book. He throws it away and goes into the kitchen to make pies. For when Dean gets back, he tells himself. A lot of pies, meticulously made. Ellen stares down a whiskey or three, offering one to Bobby who waves the bottle he has in the kitchen at her. Trying to get ahead, they have gone backwards instead.


	18. Gimme Shelter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets to know what Dean has been through and new (or old) revelations are found. 
> 
> Title/quote: Rolling Stones/Gimme Shelter

* * *

Rape, murder!  
It's just a shot away  
It's just a shot away yea  
The floods is threat'ning  
My very life today  
Gimme, gimme shelter  
Or I'm gonna fade away

* * *

Dean wakes up next to not one but two people, surrounding him with familiar and safe scents and touches. Neither Sam nor Jo cares if he doesn’t notice any of the things they do for him, they will keep doing them anyway. Maybe he will. If not today, tomorrow. He went somewhere he shouldn’t have for them and they will keep being there for him until he comes back.

It’s been two days now. Castiel has been by twice, telling them what they already know – Dean has retreated, and he’s not reachable. The angel doesn’t want to try because he thinks it might hurt more than it helps.

“If he doesn’t return, I’ll try, Sam. Let’s wait and see first. If angels did this to him, my help could smash his soul.”

“You mean he’ll die?”

“His body won’t.”

That possibility means Sam won’t let Castiel near Dean. He asks the angel to stay away until Sam prays for him. Maybe him being close makes it worse for Dean, maybe not, Sam doesn’t know. But right now, he’s not taking any chances. 

This morning, Dean makes the slightest move. Jo wakes up and sits up.

“Did he move, Sam?” she whispers.

“Yeah. He did” Sam whispers back.

Dean does it again. He’s waking up. The day before, he didn’t move, he didn’t really wake up either. Sam and Jo waited for hours, but in the end, they got him up from bed to make sure his body got what it needed even if the rest of Dean wasn’t around. 

Sam touches Dean gently, Jo has her fingers in his hair.

“Freckles? Can you wake up today?” Sam says, calm and in a low voice.

Dean opens his eyes. He doesn’t speak, but he moves his hand, just like he did once before, touches his cheekbone. 

“We missed you, Deedee. A lot.”

Sam wants so bad to say he’s sorry, to comfort Dean. But he can’t, because he knows talking about what happened could be hurtful. He has to wait. Dean doesn’t speak this morning either, but he eats on his own. They make him take a shower, go for a walk, reconnect with the world. He’s in and out, sometimes closing his eyes and fighting something back, fighting to stay with them. Everyone in the cabin hold their breaths several times that day. Get tears in their eyes. But they keep it together, and they remain calm. They have no right to anything else, considering they are only watching the fight this time. It might be very hard for a hunter to be benched, but what Dean does is harder.

* * *

The next morning, Dean utters his first word, as the usual trio sits in the sofa.

“Cas.”

“You want Cas here, Deedee?”

“Yes. Help.”

“Castiel, angel of the Lord, feathery oddly friendly one, I pray to you to come here as fast as you can” Sam says.

“You have a very unorthodox way of praying, Sam” the angel says, appearing right before them as usual.

“We need help, Castiel.”

“With what can I be of assistance?”

“Dean wants you.”

Castiel turns his piercing, questioning eyes to Dean.

“Dean, I’m very happy you are better. How can I help?”

“Make. Sam. See.”

Castiel is quiet for a little while.

“What he wants me to do, Sam, it’s… not easily done, and I’m not sure how it will affect you. But I’ll do it if you want me to.”

“What do you mean, Castiel?”

“Dean asked me to let you see what’s in his head. What he refuses to flee from until you get to see it. There’s no way he can tell you right now, it’s hard enough to reach out as much as he does. But he can let you see it, yourself. Only, you will see it, and feel it, the way he does. It will not be pleasant.”

“I don’t care, Cas. Just do it. If he can take this every day year after year, I won’t let him down because I don’t want to go there.”

This is the first time Sam uses the angel’s nickname. He doesn’t realize it, but he’s building on his relationship with Castiel, making them something else than unwilling allies in a war they don’t know anything about. They are on their way to become something Castiel can’t really grasp what it is yet. Friends.

“As you wish, Sam. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Wait!” Bobby says, always the suspicious one. “How did Dean know you can do that? What he said, could mean a lot of things.”

“Because I told him I could, Bobby. He had troubles communicating and I offered to come inside to carry messages. When he didn’t want that, I told him I could try and let Sam in. He didn’t want that either. I don’t like it, but I offered. And now he wants it. Even though I believe he is in a place I wouldn’t recommend anyone to visit.”

The angel is like an open book, like a child. Sam has seen this during his “interviews”. 

“Bobby, we have to trust him. If he can give Dean what he wants, I have to try. Maybe this is what we need to find something, anything, we can do about all this crap.”

“Fine” Bobby growls. “But I don’t have to like it.”

Sam turns to Castiel, making it clear he’s ready to go. The angel touches both brother’s foreheads and they seem to fall asleep.

* * *

_Where am I_ , Sam thinks. _And why does it hurt so bad?_ He remembers he chose this, but he can’t really get to why, it all spins around and around and somewhere else where there is a big darkness scary darkness don’t go there. He tries to shake his head, clear it up, but it doesn’t work. His body hurts. Everywhere. It’s beaten, kicked, violated in ways he doesn’t want to remember but does anyway, in a blur, there’s more than one of them keeping him down he tries to get away from them one way or another and then it hurts oh so bad no don’t don’t don’t not that don’t do that no and he is lost for moments, time is split up. 

When he opens his eyes, he wants to scream because he’s in a nightmare, so many things he doesn’t want to see, want to hear. Painted over them is a prison cell, like it’s painted on plastic and hung in front of the horrors he sees. Some he recognizes, some he doesn’t. He’s absolutely terrified, but he can’t move, and time seems to loop between him being beaten and thrown into walls and (no no not that please please not that) and being in the middle of the horror movie where it doesn’t hurt as much, but he sees again and again how his father dies (but I wasn’t there, was I, no not really) and monsters and dead people (this is new, right, or is it, I don’t know) and things worse than words can describe. 

Suddenly, there’s a bright light, so bright it hurts his eyes and it burns through his body, mangles through the pain with a new, sharp one, one that blocks out all thoughts. If he’d been allowed to die of pain, he would have, he will know that as soon as the pain finally fades and any remnants of thoughts come back. 

“He won’t be making deals” Sam hears. “So he can’t break the first seal. Should we try and restore him?” The sound is distorted, but he can still make out the words. “No, two wrongs don’t make a right. They will find another way, or we’ll help them. Zakariah has already found one, Evan Hudson. Few nudges, and he’s there.” Sam forces himself to listen, to live with the pain and the horrors, because he somehow knows this is it, this is why he didn’t die of pain. “That will work?” There are two voices, he thinks he hears yes two bright lights. “It will have to. This one is broken, and we need him later. Don’t want to risk smash him to pieces if he can’t take the cure.”

* * *

When Sam comes to, he inhales like he’s been under water for too long, that he almost drowned, and then he leans over and throws up on the floor. He pants and wretches and throws up again.

“Sam? You alright?” Bobby asks, pale and anxious. 

Sam waves his hand to let Bobby and the others know he will be, he just needs a minute. He actually needs a little more than that before he leans back in the sofa while Ellen and Jo dispose of his breakfast. Working at the Roadhouse means they are pretty resistant to the stink of vomit in the morning. Then Sam cries, just for a minute or two, he makes himself stop.

“Cas? Is that what Fr… my brother, does he live in that?” 

Sam’s voice is shaky.

“Not very often, Sam. He has found ways to keep most of it hidden away. The djinn’s poison tries to drag him back there, but he won’t let it anymore.”

“Not until we made him” Sam whispers, tears running down his cheeks again.

“He wouldn’t go there if it wasn’t important” the angel says. “What did you learn, Sam?”

Sam just shakes his head. He needs more time to collect himself. He leans against his brother, holds him. Dean, very painstakingly, raises his hand and puts it on Sam’s arm as to comfort him. Sam cries even harder. That Dean, who has lived in that pain and horror for so many years, would try and comfort him, it just pushes him over the edge. 

Tears do end, in the real world, where time is linear (even if it’s not, really). Sam whispers to his brother about how he will never leave Dean, will always be there to tether him to this world, that he will get Dean out of there whatever it takes. Then Sam tells the others about what he's seen and Castiel looks very troubled.

“Breaking seals, are you sure about that?” he says.

“Yes, Castiel. I am sure about that. I don’t know what the fuck it means, though.”

“And it is written, that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break.”

“What’s that?”

“That’s the book of Revelations,” Bobby says. “Old school edition.”

“And what happens when these seals are broken?” Sam asks.

“Lucifer walks free” Anna says, behind them, pale and with a voice that’s even paler. “The demons are going to break Lucifer free and Heaven has no plan to stop them. Heaven decided to _help_ them.”

Castiel stares in front of him. Dean is too exhausted to react. The other humans stare at Anna, mouths open and eyes wide. The world is ending, and they have no idea how to stop it. And no one will believe them (except for the ones who are trying to end it, of course).


	19. No prophets telling my future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam takes the story and makes it his.
> 
> Title/quote: Sepultura / Age of the atheist

* * *

What do you see  
depends of what you are looking for  
and what are you looking for  
needs to be believed.  
It needs to exist in your head,  
you need to believe to disbelief.

* * *

Breakfast. Bacon smells good even though the world is ending, especially if you have a brother who is eating it again and that makes you so relieved you think you’ll cry. Again. The crying is a theme by now. Sam takes a deep breath and starts to sum up what they know.

“Okay. We do know both angels and demons want the Apocalypse to happen and that they believe it’s destiny, a prophecy hidden in the old old Book of Revelations. We know they have to break seals...”

“Sixty-six of them” Bobby intervenes.

“…Sixty-six seals, to let Lucifer out from wherever he is. We know they were about to use Dean to break the first one, but chose someone called Evan Hudson to do it because Dean couldn’t. But they still, probably, want me and Dean to be meatsuits for Michael and Lucifer. We now know angels are fucking assholes. Demons, we already knew were fucking assholes. So, we have a lot of supernatural superstrong assholes trying to end the world. And if we go out there, they will catch us and pin us up like bugs” Sam sums the situation up. 

The silence is disheartening. Sam takes a deep breath.

“I say we make the fuckers regret that they ever set foot on Earth.”

“And how do you expect us to do that?” Bobby says. 

“Don’t know yet. But I’ll be damned if I sit here and give up. I’ll go down swinging” Sam says with That Voice. 

Bobby can’t help it. He laughs. 

“Well, I have nothing else to do, so let’s go, Braveheart” he says. “Just tell us how we’re supposed to go on from here.”

“Well, Bobby, you tell us. You are the greatest resource there is on lore. We need to know more about this.”

“Ash is digging already,” Ellen says. “Good thing Angel Express helped us set up that safe line.” She doesn't sound too confident it will help though. 

“I will call Castiel here and try chatting him up again. Maybe I’ll shake something loose. If you would take care of Dean, Jo. He’s been fine so far today.” Sam looks at Jo.

“Sure, Sam. We might try and look at some pictures if he’s up for it.”

“Pictures?”

“I had Ash find pictures of people who worked at the hospital or at the police station when Dean was there. Even some visitors. Ash hacked their computers. Maybe Dean can tell us if the angels possessed any of them.”

“Jo, that could make him worse again" Sam says, worried and annoyed with her for putting Dean in danger.

“Sam. He wants to help. And I know what it feels like when people tell you no because they decide for you that you can’t. Let him decide. If one finger starts to tremble, I’ll throw the pictures away, okay? Your brother is a fucking fighter, Sam, let him fight the only way he can right now.” Jo speaks decisively, and it’s clear she believes in Dean. Maybe Sam should, too. Even more than he does. Even if it scares him. 

“What good would that do anyway?” Bobby asks, worried that Dean will break down and what that will do to Sam. The scare they just had, it’s just not worth taking chances, he believes.

“Don’t know yet. But I’ve got this feeling in my gut.”

Ellen looks at her daughter. “I’ve learned that when Jo says that, one should listen.”

“Fine” Sam sighs. “But you don’t make him do anything he can’t take, Jo! We don’t know how many times he can come back.”

“I. Want. To. Help” Dean says.

“Deedee, you are as brave as you are stupid. Sure you can do this?” Sam says, squeezing Dean’s arm lightly.

“Yes.” 

“Okay. But you come back to me, you hear? You don’t get lost.”

None of them have tried to talk to Dean about the hell Sam has told them about, whispering outside with Dean inside. Sam says they should wait until he’s better, so now he dances around it. He doesn’t talk about WHAT Dean has to come back from or could get lost in, and half of him wishes he never had gotten that close-up of Dean Winchester’s personal hell. But half of him thinks it’s good that he knows. Even if it made him tremble for hours after the visit, mostly because he knows Dean is still in there, even if he has “hidden away most of it” as Castiel put it. Now, Jo wants to get Dean close to the gaping abyss again, because his brother just won’t give up and try to heal instead. 

At lunchtime, Sam finally rejoins the others inside, bringing Cas with him. They have been talking in the garden for hours. It hasn’t helped much, but Sam has that feeling, that he’s missed something. It’s a hunter’s feeling, when the case seems impossible but there is a clue somewhere that will rip it wide open. You know you’ve seen it, you just don’t know where and when, and it drives you crazy.

He sees Jo sit with Dean by the table. She holds his hand and they have pictures in front of them, lots and lots of blank photos of people. Sam wonders absently if, and in that case how, the angels pay for all the stuff they bring here. 

One picture is picked aside. Some of them are upside-down in a pile. 

“You tired, sweetie? I could go for some lunch. We all need to recharge, you know.”  
Dean looks at her, and Sam smiles when he sees it. Dean likes Jo, he feels safe with her. In another life… but all they have is this one. Jo starts to move all the pictures to make place for them to eat, since Ellen announces that lunch is ready to be served, and she smiles at Sam while doing it.

“He identified one. I’ve got a name and a picture and Ash checked. I believe Dean is right about this.”

“Why?” Sam asks, watching Dean. His brother seems to be just as fine now as he was this morning. 

“Because that person does not work at that, or any other, hospital anymore. He lives in one.”

“That could be the result of being a vessel” Castiel says. “How are you today, Dean?” 

“Good, Cas. Tired.” 

Sam smiles and put his hand on Dean’s. “If anyone ever had the right to be tired, freckles, it would be you.”

“I’ll be okay, Sammy” Dean says, turning his green eyes, so open and alive, to meet Sam’s. 

“I don’t how you can be, Deedee, not when I know…”

“You are here.” 

Dean speaks slowly, but not with interruptions as he does when it’s too hard for him to get the sentences to flow and he has to push out one word at a time. More like he puts weight behind the words. Wants Sam to know that they are important, that they mean everything to him. Sam gets Dean to stand up and hugs him, hard, and for a good long while. 

“I always will be, Deedee. You are my brother. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

It takes a few moments for Dean to raise his arms, but then he hugs Sam back. It’s beautiful to see. Ellen and Bobby set down the plates and food they were carrying, and Ellen puts an arm around Bobby. She smiles. So does he. Jo steps forward and hugs both brothers.

Then they sit down to eat, all of them as quiet as Dean, relishing the moment of happiness. Sam watches his brother, who doesn’t tremble, doesn’t jerk when Ellen’s glass accidentally hit the plate beside it, doesn’t need him to put a spoon in his hand, no he grabs the knife and fork all by himself. That’s when it hit Sam. He’s been looking at what Dean CAN do, but he’s also seen what Dean DOESN’T do anymore. 

“Guys. I think I got something” he says, voice all tense. “I think we have looked at this the wrong way.”

“How is that, son?” Bobby asks.

“We’ve read up on the seals, I’ve been asking Castiel all about the Book of Revelations and old prophecies backing the story up, everything the angels and demons believe in.”

“Yes, Sam, we know that” Ellen says, urging him to go on.

“But we haven’t thought about what isn’t there.”

The other three looks at him questioningly. Sam continues, talking fast now, like the idea has to come out right this second or it’ll be lost. 

“We’ve bent over backwards to find the right texts, the ones that talk about a prophesy that we know isn’t going to be a hundred percent. Dean won’t break the first seal, and I bet my life he’ll never say yes to Michael, however broken the angels think he is. And I most certainly won’t go on a date with the devil. So. What about all the ones we didn’t read? If the angels and demons have to work this hard to try and get one to come true, can’t we pick another one? All we’ve done is trying to avoid those, thinking they’re wrong, or fake, or whatever.”

“You want to find an alternative to the Book of Revelations?” Bobby says, can’t believe what he hears.

“No. I want another Book of Revelations, Bobby. You said it yourself the other day, those Bible makers just keep changing everything like it’s a scrapbook, not a novel. Let’s find us another story.”

**And that’s the moment that the people who wandered off the trail so carefully laid out for them stopped trying to stay away from it and started to look for another path, old and almost invisible from not being used. That moment, to the one living thing in all of creation who can hear those sounds, was giving off very distinct ringing. A sound that resulted in a smile for the first time since long before there were ever Winchesters or Campbells.**


	20. Fight fire with fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of a plan is made.
> 
> Quote/title: Metallica/Fight fire with fire

* * *

Do unto others as they have done unto you  
But what in the hell is this world coming to?

Blow the universe into nothingness  
Nuclear warfare shall lay us to rest

Fight fire with fire  
Ending is near  
Fight fire with fire  
Bursting with fear  
We shall die

* * *

It’s nighttime. Anyone who entered the cabin would believe every single one of the people living there must share Dean’s paranoid schizophrenic diagnose. The walls are covered in papers, ancient texts, obscure diagrams and old world religious pictures. There are post-its all over, more papers on the floor and books everywhere. There are even some weird symbols pinned up in the ceiling. On one of the walls, there’s a small section of pictures, covered up with cloth. They are pictures of the two people Dean has identified as maybe-vessels, and three pictures of the men that abused and assaulted him to the brink of death. Did things to Dean Sam would wish he never had had to know about. Sam doesn’t want Dean to look at them, but he wants them up there, ready for him to find when all this is over. Because they are not getting away with what they did to his brother. The pictures caused Dean pain, but he kept going back to them until he had identified as many vessels as he could, and the men that hurt him as a bonus. He won’t have done that in vain, Sam swears on it.

The people around the table are all tired and worn-out. They have barely slept for a week, looking for anything and everything with the help of two angels who can actually remember the entire human history, if not in detail. Angels who really doesn’t want Dean and Sam out there, so they have decided the best thing to do, if it’s necessary to talk to the maybe-vessels, is for the angels to kidnap them as well. Sam thinks he’s going stir-crazy very very soon, but he agrees anyway. He understands the risks and he won’t take them because of Dean. Because he can’t leave his brother all alone ever again. 

Dean sits with the others, not at all worried like Sam. Maybe because his mind doesn’t allow him to fully understand the situation, maybe because he feels he’s been given more than he ever thought he would get and whatever happens, he will always have had this. All that pain has made Dean happy for the smallest things. Bobby smiling at him as he looks up from the latest obscure old Bible. Jo telling him his tan is coming along nicely, now that he’s outside in the sun every day. Sam’s fingers in his hair and Ellen humming as she presents him, and the others, with snacks. 

“That won’t do it” Sam says to Ellen with a tired smile “I need to finish this before I go to sleep, and snacks won’t keep me up. I need coffee.” 

Every single one of them drinks too much coffee. That’s better than the alternative – Sam has some of those hidden away for emergencies. The green ones are for pep, Ash once told him. If Bobby knew about that, Ash would be in trouble, but Bobby doesn’t. 

“I’ll make some” Jo offers. “I’ll just read this stupid text one more time before I forget what it’s all about and have to start all over again. Did I mention I hate these stupid texts?”

“Once or twice” Ellen says, shaking her head at her fiery daughter, not very good with this painfully slow research. 

“I can make coffee” Dean says. 

They all turn to him, then Ellen and Bobby turn to Sam, question in their eyes. Can he? 

Jo just smiles at Dean, kisses him on the cheek, right where his freckles are starting to show. She always believes in him, and Sam loves her for it. Loves her for pushing him even harder than Sam does, makes him go as fast as he possibly can, knowing she will never be disappointed if he can’t do it.

“You try, Deedee. Let me know how it goes” Sam says, giving Dean’s shoulder a little squeeze. He has almost forgotten how careful he had to be about these things the first time with Dean, how his brother had jerked at the slightest touch. 

Dean gets up and goes to the kitchen area. Sam can see him, but he doesn’t want to stare too much. Sam thinks Dean might be close to being able to detect these things, knowing they are watching him. So Sam uses his hunter skills to look without letting anyone know that he does. Dean stops at the counter, stares at the coffeemaker for a few seconds before proceeding. He has to stop and concentrate with each and every step, but he gets it right. There are so many good things here. Dean understood what they were talking about, he processed this information and came with a suggestion, he managed to make a plan and to follow it. He has found a way to focus his thoughts even though there are so many dark things in his mind slashing and hacking at them. 

The coffeemaker comes to life and Dean returns to wait for it to produce strong, black coffee to keep them all awake. 

“You teach him that?” Sam asks Jo as Dean starts to walk back to the table.

“He’s not a kid, Sam. I just told him how we like it and reminded him how it’s done” Jo answers, not letting Dean go with her eyes. Even if she says he’s not a child, she’s very proud of him. 

Sam has a tear in his eye and hugs Jo before Dean gets there to sit between them. 

“I love you, Joanna Beth Harvelle” Sam says. 

“The only one ever calling me that is my mother and only when she’s mad” Jo grumbles, but continues “but I love you to, Sam Winchester.” 

Dean sits down. “Me too” he says. “Both of you.” All the hacking and slashing in his mind has made him more honest and straight-forward than he would have been otherwise. He can’t afford anything but clear messages when he is able to get them through.

Then, the flutter of invisible wings, that by now is a familiar sound, and Castiel appears. 

“Hello” he says. 

“Hey, Cas” Dean answers, smiling. Cas gives him a smile back. It’s weird seeing the angel smile, because he didn’t for a very long time. He’s learning, as well. Anna seems to dislike them more every time she shows up, maybe in part because Castiel loves them more and more.

“What’s new, Cas?” Sam asks, happy to see the angel. 

“What do you mean, Sam?” Castiel asks, making a confused face.

Sam laughs, tired but still not too tired to be amused by the angel’s issues with anything not literal.

“I meant, what have you found out since last we met?”

“Oh” the angel says, nods. “I have met with the vessels. They have told me what the angels want. Or, they let me in to listen to the echoes inside them.” 

Ellen and Bobby both make the exact same half annoyed, half interested face. 

“Don’t we already know that?” Bobby says. “Was the whole apocalypse thing a joke?”

Cas turns his intense blue eyes to them. 

“No, but what they truly want is not Lucifer dead. They want Paradise on Earth. They want humans to be what they were meant to be. And they will be, once Heaven has won.” 

This confuses everyone at the table, which makes Castiel continue.

“Out of all of you here, Dean is, or used to be, closest to the Heaven’s ideal human. They don’t want free will, they want humans to be docile, follow orders. Not think for themselves. They want Earth to be ruled by Heaven, in every detail.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “They want to wipe out life as it is” he says.

“Yes” Castiel answers matter-of-fact. “No humans will make deals, no new demons be made. Demons will be extinct, eventually. The most pressing matter is to make sure humans fall in line.”

“Then” Sam said, decisively, “we know the bait we have to find. We can’t kill the angels, but maybe, if Lucifer could be trapped, we can trap them somewhere too. Keep them away from Earth. If we can lure them there with promises of Zombie Paradise.”

Castiel looks at Sam, and it’s very hard to read his thoughts and feelings. He seems to ignore the part about zombies.

“If you can get all the angels, at the same time, to one place in Heaven, I could trap them there” he says. “They won’t be able to move around in Heaven, much less come to Earth. But if even one of them isn’t in there, they could open the door from outside.”

Sam nods, and Bobby watches that steel in his eyes, somehow believes that the boy he loves so much will pull this off, however unlikely that should be. “Then we know what to use for bait and where to lure them” Sam says. “But I have to trust you, Cas, to do your part.” Sam sends a piercing look Cas way, trying to determine how much he can do that. Trust the angel.

“I will do my part, Sam” Cas answers, totally honest.

“No, you won’t, Castiel” Anna says, suddenly showing up next to him. 

Dean shivers. He still doesn’t like Anna very much and she’s around so little, he’s not used to her. Jo comforts him, mumbling in his ear and fingers in his hair. Sam makes sure Dean is okay with Jo and then turns his attention back to the angels. 

“I will, Anna. I have to” Castiel says, just as decisively as Sam.

“No. **I** will. I hate it here, Castiel. I can’t stand Earth and I can’t stand humans. I can’t live with myself like this. It’s all too much. If you do what you are thinking of doing, what would I do afterwards? No, Castiel, I will do it. I want to. I want to go home, no matter what happens to me.”

Castiel sighs and nods. “Fine.” He looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t know quite how. Anna wouldn’t get it anyway; she’s a lot more angellike than Castiel these days.

It’s very obvious Anna won’t make it back to Earth, but all Sam can feel is happiness that Cas won’t go through with a possible suicide mission. This is the moment he realizes he likes the angel, feels he is a friend. Maybe because of Cas’ relationship with Dean, maybe because his quirky behavior has found its way into Sam’s heart. Or both. Whatever the reason, the alliance is made. A plan is starting to form, one that is impossible. Or not. Hunters see a lot of things that are supposed to be impossible.


	21. Who'll stop the rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel reveals new possibilites, and Dean turns one of them down. 
> 
> Quote/title: Who'll stop the rain / CCR
> 
>  **Just want you to know** how much I appreciate every single kudos and comment! And maybe, most of all, you guys who have chosen to subscribe to my story. It makes me want to keep writing and get better. I know I don't always get it right in English, mostly because it's not my first language, but I really try!  <3 to y'all!

* * *

As long as I remember  
The rain's been comin' down  
Clouds of mystery pourin'  
Confusion on the ground

Good men through the ages  
Tryin' to find the sun  
And I wonder, still I wonder  
Who'll stop the rain

* * *

Sam and Bobby sit outside, share a beer. They are both exhausted from looking for answers that any other human being would believe don’t exist, not after all the time they have spent on it. Old Bible fragments, any book that could have information about prophecies of the heavenly kind, or djinns, or evil-blood-poisoning. The cabin is even more crowded with all the books and papers, which is why Sam and Bobby are outside, trying to clear their heads and find a new angle. Sam could tell the angels he and Dean would do what they want, but why would they have to go to Heaven for that? And why would all the angels come? No, they have to find something. Something that gives the angels Zombie Dream Land without the prize fight, something that brings every single angel to one place in Heaven.

Ellen is next to them, snoring, beer in hand. She’s exhausted, too. That, the birds singing, the wind blowing softly through the trees, are all they can hear. The stillness would be serene if not for the fact that the world is about to end, and Sam’s brother is still stuck in his individualized hell. 

Jo and Dean walks around the corner of the cabin. They’ve walked the path that is starting to get on Sam’s nerves. If they are stuck here much longer, he will go crazy, too. 

“Hey, freckles” Sam says, smiles at his brother. The nickname works better now that Dean’s skin is sun-kissed and the dark rings under his eyes are gone. Yesterday, Jo tried to fix his hair and it got a bit better, if not good. Dean looks a lot healthier now. Jimmy would love to see that, if he could. If he wasn’t an angel puppet these days.

“Hey, Sammy” Dean says, answers with a pet name of his own. Bobby has never called Sam that, out of respect. There were two people in the world that were allowed to do that, and both of them were gone. To Bobby, he was always “Sam” or “Son”, or sometimes “Idjit”. Now, one of the two is back and as much as Sam loves to hear Dean calling him that, it also brings some pain and sorrow. His dad, the other one who called him Sammy, will never return to do that again. John’s gone, and in the silence, taking a break, and seeing Dean a little bit more like he was, that is starting to catch up.  


Sam feels a hand on his shoulder, and meets his brother's eyes. “I miss him too” Dean says. How he knew what Sam was thinking, when Sam barely knew himself, is a mystery. Like many other things still is about Dean, not surprisingly since what he’s got is unique. Sam reaches up and squeezes his brother’s hand.

“Now I have you, Deedee. I will be fine.” 

Dean’s eyes go from warmth to a little bit troubled. “I try” he says. It’s clear he doesn’t believe he’s enough for Sam. This is a sign Dean is thinking a lot more clearly now, making abstract conclusions, but it’s also very sad. 

Sam gets up and hugs his brother hard. “You are a miracle. You make me happy, every day. You are my brother and you will always, always be enough for me. I just feel I fail you, every day that we don’t find a cure.”

Dean hugs him back. “Maybe there is. No cure.” He doesn’t sound scared, or sad, or anything like that. He’s okay with it. As long as Sam wants him around, he’s okay with living in that horrible nightmare. Sam can’t not do what he seems to keep doing (maybe to catch up for all those years when he swallowed it all down, remade it into cold resolution). He gets teary-eyed. 

“There is. And I will find it” he answers with a voice raw of feelings and thick with tears.

Jo watches them, sadness and happiness chasing each other over her face. She gets a beer, too. Working at the Roadhouse, Ellen never even tried to keep her daughter from drinking before twenty-one. Better Jo did it out in the open, where Ellen could keep an eye on her. That strategy worked, mainly because Jo never was that interested in getting wasted. She never had the time for that, using every free second to hone her hunter skills. 

“You want one, sweetie?” she asks Dean. He can have beer too, now, when he’s off his meds. Dean, even if he’s twenty-seven, has barely ever gotten to drink beer since he was incarcerated at sixteen. 

“Yeah” Dean answers. He likes the taste. Sam won’t let him have too many, though. Who knows what that might stir up in the fragile psyche, broken by djinn-juice and trauma. 

Jo hands him one and their hands meet for a short moment. Like Sam, she has built a relationship with Dean not only with words, but also with a lot of physical touch. It’s easier for Dean to sort out from other things than what he experiences through ears and eyes, feels different (which is also why it used to cause such violent reactions). When they walk, they usually hold hands, not because Dean really needs it anymore, but because it’s comforting and makes both of them feel good. 

“Nothing really works” Sam says, rubs his face in frustration. “I guess we can’t trick the angels with a fake one.” 

Castiel shows up. “Hello” he says. He doesn’t have any news, just wants to check in anyway. “No, Sam, the angels will know. They can spot a real prophesy when they see one, even if they have discarded it previously.”

Sam sighs. “We’d need to be able to go back in time and try to trick the prophet into writing a different one” he says wearily. “I don’t know what to do. Dead ends are getting very tired.”

A dark cloud travels over Dean’s face. “Make things happen again.” 

Jo reaches out and finds his hair, leans against him. She does that as a reflex now, she and Sam both. 

“Not like that, Deedee” Sam says. He knows what it means to Dean to travel in time, reliving every painful horrible thing he has ever been through. “We’d just need to whisper in someone’s ear. Not that it’s possible.” 

“I can go back in time” Castiel says, like it’s a normal thing to say. Like when he said he could get them a new printer if they needed one (after Sam showed him a very detailed picture, because Castiel really don’t get that kind of thing). 

They all stare at him. “You could?” Ellen says. 

“It’s not easy but I have done it.” 

Sam leans forward, suddenly not so tired. “This makes things a little bit different, doesn’t it? We could find something close enough and twist it a little bit. Could you make the prophet change some details, Cas?”

The angel looks troubled. “That’s hard, Sam.” Weirdly enough, he’s less confident in playing a trick on a human than going backwards in time. “Time curls around itself. Prophets do not change their writings. I will speak to Anna about this.” And with that, he’s gone again. It’s annoying, because Sam would like to discuss this a bit more. It’s not the first time the angel disappears like that, before anyone has time to stop him. Then a thought comes to Sam.

“If Cas can go back in time, can’t he save Dad and Dean?”

Bobby knows Sam will hate him for this, but he has to say it. “Sam, we don’t know what will happen. A few words in a prophecy is not the same thing as saving two people who will make thousands of choices changing the world. It’s a big risk. You might be dead, all three of you. If the prophecy the angels like got it wrong once, it can go wrong again.” 

“I don’t care, Bobby. Not if I can save my brother. I’ll take that risk” Sam says decisively. 

They all fall silent, thinking about this. Little do they know, what Sam suggests won’t kill the brothers – but it will kill Jo’s father a lot sooner, and Bobby, Ellen and Jo long before old age gets them. Jo will barely get to grow into her hunter identity.

“No.” 

Dean speaks, and he does so with great conviction. 

“But, Deedee” Sam begins.

“No” Dean repeats. 

“Sweetie, maybe this could save you” Jo says.

“Or not. I’m with you now. That I know” Dean says, not ready to risk what he has finally found. He’ll take the pain if he knows he’ll end up here, with Sam and Jo. And Bobby and Ellen. 

And that’s that. However bad Sam wants the opportunity to be further discussed and investigated, he respects Dean’s decision. It’s his decision to make, and he’s sure as hell clearheaded enough to make it now. So, those two seconds remain, and the Roadhouse stands, Jo’s father gets to keep his years watching Jo grow up, Castiel disobeys a lot earlier than he would have. A few other things that never happened the way they were supposed to still interweaves with the wrong turn John Winchester took. The future is still a lot more open than Zakariah, Ezekiel and the other angels would like.


	22. Eye of the Tiger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has made a plan.
> 
> Title/quote: Survivor / Eye of the tiger

* * *

  
Rising up, straight to the top  
Had the guts, got the glory  
Went the distance, now I'm not gonna stop  
Just a man and his will to survive  


* * *

  


They’re all sitting at the table, watching and listening to what Sam presents to them. He has an idea about which prophecy could work in their favor. One that could give the angels reason to gather around, all of them, and one where he and Dean are valuable, but not as vessels. There are still a lot of holes in the plan. The biggest one would be how to get the angels to gather in heaven, but Sam keeps the part about how he plans to get that done out for now. First, he wants to know if the others see something he doesn’t about the prophecy itself. He presents what he’s found about the prophet, about the translation of the text, every little detail he’s found. They all listen intensely, including his big brother, with Jo leaning on his shoulder, his arm around her waist. He has an easier time to listen if he has body warmth to keep him grounded. 

Less than an hour ago, Dean’s work-out session ended. Jo is in the shape of her life, and now she’s trying to help Dean catch up a little. He’s not too well coordinated, with everything that hacks and slashes at his focus. Trying to perform complicated moves forces him to practice concentration. Jo, except for the concentration training, also wants him to be able to defend himself, which he is not. Trying to box while one’s living in double realities is very tricky, but Dean won’t give up. His body wants to, almost immediately, every session so far, because being chained to a chair or a bed for ten years isn’t exactly good for strength or endurance. That kind of pain isn’t much of a problem for the older Winchester, used to a lot worse. Jo has to remind him he won’t be getting better if he’s getting hurt from overtraining.

Dean probably can’t follow everything Sam says even if he really tries, the younger brother knows that. It’s too much information too fast. He will try and explain more to Dean later. First, he wants to share the things he has worked on with the others to get their perspective on things. Then, when they’re picking it apart, he’ll go through it slower with Dean. One might argue there’s not much use for that, since Dean probably won’t be an asset in the planning; Sam doesn’t care about that. Dean is part of the team and he deserves to know everything they do. He shoots Dean a smile as he answers of Bobby’s questions, and then explains a few details to Ellen. Neither of them is very happy with the angle Sam has chosen, but for the moment, they can’t come up with an alternative. They will try, though, reading everything Sam has read themselves. Jo trusts them to do that; she’s already thinking about the action, about finally DOING something, not just sitting here reading. 

“Deedee, do you want to tell me what you understand, and I can fill in the blanks?” Sam asks when he’s done answering questions. 

Dean concentrates to form several sentences without taking a break in between. He’s getting better at all things, including this. “You found a prophesy that almost works. You will ask Castiel if he can trick the prophet to change some things. Then you will use it as bait, to lock the angels away in Heaven.” 

Sam smiles. “You got it, big brother. You are so much better now.” A dark cloud appears in Sam’s face. “But I won’t be able to do all that alone, Deedee.”

Dean watches his brother with great intensity. “You need me to do something.” 

Sam sighs. “I need you to do a lot.”

Dean looks like he understands how bad Sam feels about this, about having to use his brother in the struggle to stop a cosmic war. He probably does. Dean picks up a lot of things these days, and he was always very good at reading his little brother back when they were kids.

“I will do it, Sammy. I want to do it” Dean says, with the same determination as when he told them he didn’t want to try and make his own hell go away by time-travel.

“I know you will, freckles” Sam says, hand on Dean’s arm. He does. Even if it’s not logical to believe it, even hope for it, he does. Ellen and Bobby might think he’s crazy when he’ll explain Dean’s part in all this, but he believes Dean can do it.

“Sweetie, I think you can do fucking anything” Jo says, fingers in Dean’s hair, a warm smile on her lips. “You are the strongest person I’ve ever met, and ever will meet.” 

A few hours later, when nobody has been able to find anything he hasn’t thought of, Sam calls for Castiel. The angel has some things to say about the plan, and his questions makes it impossible for Sam not to let them all know what he wants Dean to do. The angel won’t try to make the impossible possible if there’s a hole that big in the plan, so Sam has to explain. Bobby and Ellen stares at him in disbelief, but Castiel just sighs and continues the conversation.

“Sam, this is not possible. But nothing is, so we might as well try. We won’t be able to hide you here for all eternity.”

“You really think Dean has any chance to trick the angels like that, Castiel?” Bobby asks with wild eyes. He doesn’t want to accept the plan, doesn’t want Sam to go through with something that probably will end with him in agony, lost to Bobby forever. Best case scenario. Worst case scenario, the world will be lost too. At least the version of the world they live in now.

“No. But I don’t think it’s possible to change a prophecy either, which I have to do first. And I didn’t think it would be possible for Dean to ever communicate the way he does, neither did I think it would be possible to change fate, if only slightly, by hiding you, which we already have done.”

“I believe in Dean” Jo says, decisively, not shaken by what Sam has told them he wants Dean to do. “I just wish I could go with you.”

Ellen shakes her head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if all this is true, and I still can’t understand that it is, this is the only plan we have. And I’m damn glad you can’t go, Jo.”

Dean, the topic of the conversation, seems a bit out of it. He gets like that when he thinks about something that needs a lot of concentration. Then he turns to Sam.

“Explain it again, Sam.”

Sam takes Dean’s hands, squeezes them. Catches his eyes. Does all he can to make a connection between them to make it easier for Dean to understand. He explains it again. Twice. All the others listen. The silence, except for Sam’s voice, is thick in the cabin. Dean takes a deep breath, and the green eyes grow intense, green fire that burns brighter than Sam can remember it ever has.

“I’ll do it.”

Bobby shakes his head in and grumbles “Sam, maybe if we could find a cure, Dean could help. But this, son, it’ll never work.”

Dean turns to Bobby. “If I am cured, I can’t do what Sammy asks of me. You know that, Bobby. If you don’t believe in me. Believe in him. I’ll do it.”

Castiel nods gravely. “Then I’ll go. I’ve talked to Anna about this and she said she’d help if you found a prophecy, Sam. It probably won’t work but I will do my best. So will Anna.”

Castiel disappears and leaves a room filled with emotion and thick silence.

Dean is exhausted, body and mind, and Jo takes him to lie down. Bobby sees them leave, and turns to Sam.

“You really think he can do that? When those few sentences make him struggle?”

“I don’t think, Bobby. I know. And I need you with me” Sam says, at first stern and then pleading. 

Bobby rolls his eyes. “Balls.” 

Sam smiles at that, knows Bobby has caved.

“Ellen?” Bobby asks, last resort. Maybe she can talk some sense into Sam.

“I’d say it’s idiotic, which it is, but like I said, I don’t know what else to do, Bobby.”

**And with that, the plan is set. Castiel has gone to whisper in a lesser prophet’s ears. One that wasn’t supposed to mean anything, not when the true prophecy came into being. But, the weave of possibilities is a weird one, consisting of many colors and patterns. The plan to get the world to slide onto another section of it is of course impossibly hard to accomplish. Especially since Sam wants to rip it up and change it first. Somewhere, the being that once sent the original version down to Earth, still nods approvingly. This is the very reason to why humans received free will in the first place.**


	23. Hold Me Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam makes a deal that demands more of Dean than himself. 
> 
> Title/quote: Halsey/Hold me down

* * *

I sold my soul to a three-piece  
And he told me I was holy  
He's got me down on both knees  
But it's the devil that's tryna  
Hold me down, hold me down  
Sneaking out the back door, make no sound  
Knock me out, knock me out  
Saying that I want more, this is what I live for

* * *

Sam takes a deep breath. Jo is hidden behind some debris in the corner, ready to blast angels back to their corners if needed. Castiel looks troubled as he hands Sam the old book, one he saw so recently in mint condition. Now it’s aged, smelly and some of the words are smudged. Luckily, none of the pivotal ones. Dean is by Sam’s side, at least physically. He’s lost to the world with a thousand-yard-stare to prove it.

“What do you see?” Sam asks with urgency in his voice. If Dean can’t do this, the plan will never work.

“I see turmoil, Sam. He’s in pieces” Castiel says with great sadness in his voice.

Sam swallows hard. “Good. Then, let’s do this. Cas, I’ll call when we’re done.”

Cas nods, is about to say something but doesn’t. Instead, he disappears. There’s not much to be said that hasn’t been already.

Sam kneels, takes another deep breath. “Here goes nothing” he mumbles, heart racing and hands trembling. Takes a look around the old empty warehouse, the dirty concrete and broken shelves. Then he takes the next step.

“Zachariah, I pray to you. This is Sam Winchester and I have a proposal. I am at the old warehouse by Elk Street in Sioux Falls…” and that’s as far as he gets before a middle-aged man appears in front of him. Sam is scared as hell and he does nothing to conceal it. This guy looks like an accountant living the grey life of the masses, but he’s nothing of the kind. Or, the thing inside him isn’t, anyway.

“Sam Winchester, as I live and breathe. Lucifer’s vessel, whatever might you have to tell me that is so important you came out of hiding?” the angel smirks, pompous and self-righteous in every small gesture and tone of voice. A lot mightier-than-thou than Cas or Anna has ever been. Still not what Sam had expected from an angel, though. The grand fantasy of the creatures of light had been greatly exaggerated. 

“I don’t want war, Zachariah, and I’m not going to say yes to Lucifer. I have another idea that will get us both what we want.”

Zachariah takes a look at Dean and circles him with a contemptuous face. “M-hm. I see the Michael Sword is still in the condition it was last I saw it.”

Sam clenches his jaw and resists to react to the way the asshole angel is talking about his brother and to the way Dean winces and hugs himself desperately when he’s too close to the “big wings”.

“Dean won’t ever be what he was, and I don’t care for the world that did this to him. You can have the world, make everyone into happy sock puppets for all I care. At least they’ll be alive and not miserable. I have a small list of people I want saved. I’ll get Dean to perform the Ritual of Amaraia with me if you promise to keep them safe.” Sam sighs, his face contorted with pain. “I can’t even look at him anymore. But he’ll do as I say, the little of him that’s left.” 

Sam pushes out that little speech, does his best to let every bitter and hateful feeling he’s ever had about the fact that Dean’s been in hell for ten long years be heard. 

Zachariah makes a confused face and turns to Sam. 

“Ritual of Amaraia?”

“It’s all in here” Sam says and hands him the book. “The prophecy of Ruth, the true version.”

It takes the angel a few moments to glance through the book. Then he gives Sam a piercing look. “And you are ready to do this? What Cain did to humankind, it’s nothing compared to this. And you will be obliterated.” 

Sam stares at him. “I don’t care. I can’t live in this world anymore, hidden and forced to watch my brother suffer. Nothingness seems like the best choice for me. It certainly is for him” he snarls. 

Zachariah cocks an eyebrow. “Fine. Let’s get this show on the road. See what old Lucifer does when he has nobody to corrupt anymore.” He turns his face to Dean, who makes a pained sound. That makes Zachariah roll his eyes. No, definitely not what Sam would have expected from an angel. 

“Can you really make that drooling mess do anything?” he asks with an annoyed sigh.

Sam turns to Dean. 

“Dean!”

No reaction.

“Dean, for fucks sake!” Sam snarls and Dean twitches. “Say you want what I tell you to.”

Dean’s lifeless eyes don’t move, but his lips do. “I want what you want” he whispers hoarsely. 

“Good dog” Zachariah praises Dean with a dry laugh. “I’d pat your head if you wouldn’t scream.” Then he turns back to Sam with that smirk that makes the younger Winchester want to gank him right there and then, no matter what. He digs his nails so deep into his palms that they bleed. 

“Ten days from now, at the full moon, we meet here, and I take you to Heaven” Zachariah says. “I would put you in jail ‘til then, but since this has to be voluntary, there’s really no use for it. And I’d rather not see your ugly faces more than I have to.”

With that, he’s gone. Sam calls Castiel and Anna to fly them back. When they land in the cabin, Bobby and Ellen awaits them, worry and fear all over their faces. Ellen pulls Jo in for a rough hug, tears coming down her cheeks. She wasn’t sure any of them would come back. 

“He bought it?” Bobby asks, eyes still wild from the wait.

“I think so” Sam answers. Then he turns to Dean. 

“Deedee?” 

Sam hears the pain in his own voice, the pain from what he’s done to his brother, what he made Dean do to himself.

Dean takes a deep breath and life returns to the suddenly sparkling green eyes. He shakes his head. 

“Hey, Sammy. I did good?”

Sam hugs Dean for a very long time, feels Jo hug them both, trying to reach around them best she can. 

“Yes, freckles, you did so good. So fucking good. I’m so sorry I have to put you through this.” 

When Sam finally let go, Dean raises his arm, clumsily, like he forgot how to move during his visit in his inner turmoil. He wipes the tears from Sam’s cheeks (how many tears now, Sam? You are a freaking tear factory). Sam smiles and puts his own hand on top of Dean’s, keeps it where it is in a gesture of deep love. 

“You know I would never talk to you like that, right?” 

Dean makes a slightly confused face. “You had to seem desperate. I know.”

Sam gently catches Dean’s chin, looks him directly into the eyes. “It’s very important to me that you understand that, Deedee. I will never, ever treat you like that when this is done.”

“I don’t know how smart it is to try and lie to an angel” Bobby says, “but that trick of yours is damn impressive, son.” He hugs Dean. It’s the first time they’ve done that, and Sam smiles wider than he thought possible. Maybe Dean can have an extra dad just like he has had for all those years. 

**This isn’t an attempt to leave the road paved for them anymore. It’s an attempt to leave the map. Sam doesn’t fully comprehend how big this is, and he has no idea why Zachariah was so terribly easy to win over. The truth is, nothing is right up in Heaven. The prophecy gone awry has provoked angels to almost do the impossible – think for themselves. Zachariah has to find a solution, and quick, because demons thrive on chaos. Lilith might want the prophecy to happen as bad as the angels do, but things needing violent and ugly solutions along the way doesn’t trouble her. The archangels all thought it wouldn’t be a problem either, but the will of God being challenged? They can all feel it, and that turned out to be destructive in a way nobody had foreseen.**

**Whatever God thinks, nobody knows. Except for himself, of course. The all-knowing, none-doing, watching his experiment turn out a way not even he expected.**


	24. The end of the world as we know it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean execute the plan. 
> 
> Quote/title: REM/It's the end of the world

* * *

This means no fear, cavalier, renegade and steering clear  
A tournament, a tournament, a tournament of lies  
Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline  
It's the end of the world as we know it (I had some time alone)  
It's the end of the world as we know it (I had some time alone)  
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine (time I had some time alone)  
I feel fine (I feel fine)

* * *

Ten days is a very long time and a very short time. Sam has wished more than once that they could just do it, get it over with. At the same time, now that they have finally reached day nine, it feels like he met Zachariah yesterday, and his stomach is in knots when he thinks about what they are about to do. They have done everything they can to prepare. Tried everything they can beforehand, with Anna and with Dean. His brother has been through almost more than Sam can stand to think about training for the event. There is nothing left to do, except to execute the plan, or die trying. There is no turning back, whatever Bobby says as they are taking a walk around the way too well-known premises, their prison made of safety.

“We can still back down, Sam. You don’t have to do this” Bobby says in a final attempt to save the boy he thinks of as his son. 

“Bobby, it will get worse and worse out there, and nobody else will stop it. Nobody else can. I will do it, and I will get back. With Dean. I promise you” Sam says, and he believes it. He has to. If he doesn’t believe it, they are doomed before they even try. And when he has doubts, he thinks about Dean. About the decisiveness in his brother’s green eyes every time he performs the trick he has to be able to pull off. 

“Yeah, with the low risk you are taking there’s nothing to worry about” Bobby grumbles, low and affectionate. 

“Yeah, me and Dean will have no trouble at all” Sam laughs. “Milk run, really.”

Bobby sighs. “Idjit.” He ruffles through Sam’s hair, and Sam knows that Bobby knows. There’s no way Sam is turning back now. 

Jo walks up to them, Dean in tow. She holds his hand, fingers intertwined. 

“Yeah, you better get back here, Sam Winchester, or I’m coming to that Nothingness to kick your ass” she says in a voice thick with emotion.

“We’ll be back, Jo” Dean says, just as decisively as his brother. He’s all there, or as close to all there as he’s ever gotten. 

“Only choice you have, sweetie” she answers, reaches up and kisses his cheek. 

Ellen appears with Castiel, with those wild eyes they all get after a flight with Angel Airlines.

“This angel express thing is very practical” she says, whiskey voice a little bit shaky. “Don’t really like the side effects, though.” 

Sam laughs dryly.

“Yeah, I buzz for hours afterwards. Like my skin is itching and everything vibrates.”

“Your molecules aren’t made for travelling like that” Castiel says. “They need… I have no word for it.”

Sam smiles at the sincerity in the angel’s voice. 

“Let’s call it angel glue, Cas.” 

“Angel glue?” The angel tilts his head. “That’s actually very accurate, Sam.” Then the angel sighs. “I just hope I can do my part. It’s not very easy to calculate where you will end up.” 

Dean turns to him, green fire burning with honesty. “I trust you, Cas.”

“I do too” Sam say. “And if you can’t, Cas… I forgive you. You’ll make a bigger sacrifice than any of us.” 

Bobby puts his hand on the angel’s shoulder in a quiet gesture of trust and affection. Over the last nine days, the angel, with all his quirks and weirdness, has become their friend. Jo smiles at Castiel and Sam can see how this makes the angel equally confused and grateful of what they give him. He has been analyzing Cas and he believes the angel has found a way to change in spite of his limitations, just as Dean has. But in Cas’ case, it’s even harder, because he’s not rediscovering what he once had, he’s entering unknown territory.

****

**Even if Sam understands what has happened to Castiel, he doesn’t understand the significance of it. Castiel is turning into something unique, something essentially different from the few other angels who have developed feelings. He’s not abandoning his original orders, he’s reevaluating how they should be carried out. He doesn’t turn to disloyalty, he’s finding a new loyalty. The kind God had once intended for the angels to have. Castiel is developing a true love for humanity. Maybe at first, it was for Dean, who he was put on Earth to watch, but it goes deeper than that now.**

“Not bigger than mine” Anna says as she appears with that bitter face she’s always carrying these days. She’s developed something else, a hate for humanity, but a hate grounded in what it has turned Heaven into. The hate won’t stop her from doing what she’ll have to, her part of the plan. She’s looking forward to the pain it will cause her, a pain that will stop the thoughts that burns inside. That will drown them out. 

“No, Anna” Castiel says, looks at her with sadness. It’s evident he misses her, more when she’s there than when she’s not. Her presence reminds him of what she was, he’s told Sam, with that hint of surprise in his voice he always has when he realizes he’s got powerful feelings like that, something so un-angellike, that he barely recognizes what they are.

Ellen waves a whiskey bottle. “Come on, guys. Let’s celebrate what might be our last night on earth.” She turns to Dean. “You get one, honey. And you get it now. We won’t risk you being nothing but a hundred percent when you go.” She glances at Sam. “You don’t get drunk, either, hon.”

Dean closes his eyes, concentrates. When he opens them, there’s no trace of the craziness he’s been lost in for so many years. “I’ll have that one when I get back, Ellen. I’ll be fine with beer for now. But when I get back, we’ll have a top-shelf one, right?”

They stare at him and his wolf grin. Seeing him like that, three long sentences, effortless, is magical. Just like it has been for Sam, finding bits and pieces of his brother he thought was lost forever while training Dean to get in and out of the state he was in at the hospital. Every time Dean wills himself out of it, it seems like he finds something he lost when the djinns splintered his mind into countless little pieces. Like the process makes him find stepping stones, something to hold on to. Parts of his old self that has been long forgotten. 

“Honey, you can have my entire top shelf when you get back. The real one, that the hunters never get to see” Ellen breathes and gives Dean a hug that smells of whiskey, roses (she and Jo shares a love for them) and safety.

* * *

Sam is already in the driver’s seat when Jo says her goodbyes to Dean. She cups his face in her soft hands. 

“You come back to me, sweetie” she says, capturing his eyes with hers. Then she tiptoes and kisses his lips, a long, soft kiss that leaves Dean very wide-eyed. “Remember that” she says. He nods, and for the first time in ten years words won’t leave his mouth for another reason than the djinn’s poison. 

The most important parts of their goodbyes are unspoken. The rough hugs, Bobby ruffling Sam’s hair, Jo being lifted up to a bear hug. The love shared in the little group is one stronger than words.

And then Sam hit the gas pedal and the brothers are off to the warehouse. No angel hitch-hiking this time. They can’t risk Zachariah waiting for them to smite Cas the moment he appears. They spend the time in the car in silence. A warm silence, where their bond grows in strength until it’s almost visible, like spider webs between them.

* * *

Zachariah paints the weird symbols on their faces with great concentration, using the blood Sam has provided him. They need to be one hundred percent, since they are the only things that will keep Sam and Dean in Heaven, living human beings and all. Without them, they will be violently gushed out of Heaven, which means they’ll die falling down to Earth, molecules exploding in all directions. 

They have angels all around them, now. Most of them keep their distance, though. Dean is shaking bad enough as it is. 

“You can’t tie his hands up, Zachariah. He’ll go full-on crazy and I can’t make him do anything like that” Sam says bitterly. 

“He was tied-up all the time at the asylum” the angel answers, visibly annoyed. 

“He was on the verge of sedated twenty-four seven then, and he’s no use to us like that” Sam answers with a sigh. “What do you think he’ll do? He can barely stand up.” 

That is very true. Zachariah exhales with great irritation and gives Dean a good stare, one that makes him sway and mutter incoherently, trying to hold himself to make a shield against the bright light poking at him. “I guess you’re right” the angel says. “But I won’t take any chances with you.”

Sam is chained up, just like Dean used to be. Zachariah’s trust only goes so far. If the brothers won’t perform the ritual after all, he won’t risk that they try anything and risk exploding. It’s one of the very few things that will make it virtually impossible for him to put them back together and use them as the vessels they were supposed to be.

* * *

The Garden is not what Sam had expected. 

“You see what your brain is capable of” Zachariah snorts, still looking like a bitter tax accountant.

Angels are flocking around them. Dean is so very close to break down that Sam is scared the plan will go to hell. He wishes with his entire being he could reach up and calm Dean down, run his fingers through that dirty blonde hair, but his chains keeps his hands right where they are. His throat is thick, and he feels like he might throw up, but he forces himself to calm down. Trust Dean. He remembers the hell he’s seen; the hell Dean has lived through for so many years. He can do this. 

The entire Host of Heaven is getting here, every single one, and every single one stabs at Dean’s mind. Dean sways back and forth, mumbling and hugging himself, tears coming down his cheeks and his entire body shivering violently. Zachariah has foreseen this and carefully avoided painting anything where Dean’s tears will trickle down. There’s an angel right next to them, ready to interfere if Dean is about to do anything else than hugging himself. 

“Welcome, brothers and sisters” Raphael says. He’s the scariest being Sam has ever encountered, so powerful that his presence strikes fear in every cell of Sam’s body. Still, Sam has to work hard not to show how much he hates that son of a bitch. 

“This will be a glorious day, the day when humanity bows to us as they should have a long time ago.” Raphael continues, and draws another breath. “It will also be the wake for our siblings that are not here and therefore will be obliterated with the vessels. Castiel, Anna and my beloved brother Gabriel will not be among us any longer, in Heaven or on Earth. Abandoning Heaven, they have signed their own death sentence.” 

Sam jerks in shock. Another angel on earth, an archangel none the less? He doesn’t have time for being shocked, though. He has to be ready. He pushes that thought back to a corner in his mind and steels himself. 

“Are you ready?” Raphael asks them, expecting only one answer. The drooling mess will only answer to one thing, and that will be a part of the Ritual of Amaraia. The ritual that will use the strongest magical ingredient in known history (which is a very long time for angels), self-sacrifice, to tame humanity. 

“Yes” Sam says and prays that he’s not alone being ready. His prayers are answered. 

“I am too” Anna says, suddenly appearing. Her being able to sneak into Heaven when all the angels were busy gathering in the Garden was a risky part of the plan.

“Anna” Raphael growls.

“Now, Deedee!” Sam whispers with great intensity in his voice. 

Dean comes to life, a lot quicker now than last time. He reaches up, still shivering but decisively, as Anna lifts her white shirt. With violently trembling hands he spits on his fingers and smudges out their blood, painted in intricate patterns in their faces, simultaneously. The angels miss this, because all their eyes are focused on the hated traitor. 

What happens next will always be a little bit blurry in Sam’s memory. He will remember a bright white light that emerges from Anna when she puts her hands on her cut-up body, bleeding to the point where she would have died, if she was a human. They leave the light as Dean grabs him with every ounce of strength he has, and Sam has a moment to feel how his brother’s body is convulsing from what he’s been put through. Then a searing pain thrusts through their bodies, threatens to shatter them in millions of little pieces. 

They fall. And they would have died, burned to a crisp, and split into molecules, if an Angel of the Lord, maybe the only true one, wasn’t there to catch them. Castiel heals them with such a great effort he passes out the same second as they land on Earth, somewhere in a forest. The angel has, understandably, not been able to get the destination right. 

With Anna locking Heaven from the inside, dooming herself to an eternity of torture with every single method the righteous vengeful angels can make up, Castiel, when he wakes up, will be one of three angels with any opportunity to have an impact on human history from now on. 

He’s still passed out, and will be for a long time, when the brothers get themselves together enough to stand up on shaky legs. They turn to each other, can’t believe they actually pulled it off, no matter how much they’d told themselves they would.

Then the brothers hug, roughly, for a long time. Finally, Dean pulls away, and says “Enough with the chick flick moments, Sammy”.

“Psycho jerk” Sam says with a grin and tears coming down his cheeks. Those words, that smile on his brother’s face, no matter how bad Dean still trembles, is the best thing that has ever happened to him. His brother might not be cured, but he’s back, and he proves it with his instant reply.

“Demon blood bitch.” 

They hug again. 

END OF PART ONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so guys, I know there's like a thousand loose ends and I know how the story goes from here... but I have one more on-going fic and I'm also trying to get my maybe novel-to-be done (It's of course written in Swedish, which makes it easier to be an almost decent writer). I want to update weekly or at least every other week and that's just not possible right now, so I'll take a break and be back with part two later (hopefully). 
> 
> Will be eternally grateful for any comments about what you liked (or maybe didn't like) about the story, and if you want me to continue! Comments always make me happy and make me want to try harder.


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